Binding Ties
by Isla13
Summary: People know about some of the things that happen outside of their ears and eyes. Things like Demigods and monsters have been suspected to exist somewhere. But there is another human/godly breed that has not been told of before. Isla Witte discovers what an Alter is the hard way. Where do the unwanted, or hidden godly children go? "Will you follow him, Isla...?"
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Isla, I need you to come do the dishes," Syren said, pausing in her doorway before continuing on her way down the hall. Isla sighed, placed her pencil on her drawing pad, and started for the doorway. She groaned when her little brother, Leon, ran into her room and snatched the book off her desk.

"Leon! Give that back, now!" she snapped. Leon sidestepped her lunge.

"Mommy! She's doing it again!" he screamed, dancing around the room to dodge her lunges.

"You little snitch!" Isla hissed, grabbing the little thin book back as her mother strode into the room. Leon hid behind her for protection, sticking his tongue out. Her mother have her a look of disapproval as she pointedly held out her hand for the book. Isla glared icily at the floor and handed Syren the book. Her mother looked at the picture in the book and raised her eyebrows at Isla.

"Isla, how many times do I have to tell you? You _know_ I don't like you drawing pictures of your father," Syren began.

"But Mum, I can't help it, I—"

"Don't give me that again, young lady. I'll not have another word of that. Now I don't," she said as she tore the page out, "want to see this again." She handed Isla the now seven-paged, blank book back. The other 163 pages had been torn out by her mother. Isla gave a small, strained cry of protest when her mother tore the surprisingly detailed picture of her father, Junpei, in half. Syren turned and began to walk from the room. "Dishes. Now," she said over her shoulder. Isla sighed and leaned against her bedpost, her head beginning to throb.

"Get up, Boy, you got work to do!" the man snapped angrily. Ryan was instantly on his feet. "I want this house spotless by the time I get back from work. You got that, Boy? If I find even one spec of your mess, you're in for the beatin' of your life."

"Yes, Father," Ryan replied instantly. The man then left, grumbling something about a useless excuse for a son. Ryan bowed slightly at the waist and waited. He remained frozen like that until he heard the front door bang closed, then breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He waited until his father's car disappeared from sight as he scanned the multi-paged chore list, then walked outside, locked the door, and smiled. He always loved the free feeling he got as soon as his abusive father left. Even better, he was free to go where he wanted—see who and whatever he wanted.

A training dancer, Ryan's strength and flexibility allowed him to completely ignore the five stairs that led down from the front porch. Then he continued on his way to see Isla.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Ryan, give it back!" Isla protested, jumping in an attempt to grab her phone, which he was keeping just out of reach.

"No, I don't think so. Not until you tell me what's wrong," he answered laughingly.

"No! Now give it back!" she answered dryly.

"Isla, you're upset, and you only get like _this_ when it deals with your mother," he said stubbornly. Isla looked hurt. He'd called her by her name. Ryan normally called her by the nickname he'd given her after her father and little sister died in a house fire. He'd always called her Izie. "Tell me."

"Mum tore another picture..." she mumbled after a long moment.

"Izie, your mother's in just as much pain as you are. She doesn't like you drawing pictures of Junpei, Izie, because it just reminds her. If the man you loved died, how would you like to see a bunch of pictures of him all over the place?" he demanded softly.

"You sound just like her," Isla accused.

"Do your homework, clean your room, be polite, don't hit your brother, pay attention young lady!" he mocked instantly, his voice going up an octave. Isla couldn't help but giggle at Ryan's pathetic imitation of Syren.

"What about you? What'd your father do...?" she asked after a moment. She didn't like Ryan's parents. His father was abusive, and his mother ignored his very existence.

"There was a three-paged list of chores on the table," Ryan answered stiffly. "I'm not doing them. The first one was to mop the ceiling. That just means that the rest of the list is pointless crap he came up with off the top of his head."

"But Ryan, if he finds out you didn't do them, he'll—"

"I'm not helpless, Izie. I can fight back," he interrupted.

"You could come live with us. _Please_ , Ryan, Mum's offered before. It's too dangerous for you to be over there with that man who—"

"I _won't_ impose such things on your mother. Izie, you _know_ I could never do that. I can fend for myself, Izie. I'm not a child," he said decisively. Isla made a face, folding her arms. His expression softened as he handed her phone back. "I'll be alright."

"Isla! Isla!" called a familiar voice. Isla spun to watch as Emily ran towards them, waving.

"Emily!" Isla cried, grinning broadly.

"Well hello, who's this?" Ryan asked, confused.

"The Emily I told you about; she just moved back here with her foster father," Isla explained, engulfing her friend in a hug.

"Foster...?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Her doctor. He took her in when her jerk of a father disowned her," she said quickly under her breath.

"You're Ryan, right? Isla talks about you all the time," Emily greeted.

"Does she?" Ryan said, raising an eyebrow at Isla in question.

"Emily..." Isla muttered, looking away, her face turning red. Emily grinned, her emerald-green eyes shining.

"What? You'll never get anywhere if you don't start somewhere," Emily grinned.

"There's nothing to start!" Isla defended, unable to hide the blush of her cheeks.

"There is too! Ryan, Isla—"

"Emily! Come inside, Dear, it's going to rain soon!" the voice of Emily's adoptive father, Dr. Harasagi, called from down the street. Emily pouted but waved farewell as she spun on her heel and sprinted down the street, her short brown hair swaying in the wind. Isla could feel Ryan's gaze on her, but she pointedly kept her eyes locked on Emily as she made her way down the street.

"Isla...?" Ryan inquired lightly, searching for an end to Emily's unfinished sentence.

"Nothing," she replied sharply. Ryan looked startled but smiled broadly at her.

"Well, if it's going to rain, I had better go home. Don't want to be stuck in your house when my father gets home," he said decisively after a short pause.

"But Ryan, I—"

"Hmm...?" he cut her off. Isla knew instantly not to press him any more about his father. Ryan only turned down the option of her house when he wanted to think or wanted to be alone.

"Nothing. Never mind," she amended quickly. He stared at her for a few seconds before he ruffled her hair in farewell, a small smile playing at his lips.

He turned the key in the lock reluctantly; he hadn't wanted to go back to the house, but her _really_ didn't want to be there when Isla started complaining as her mother gave her chores. They were always simple chores such as sweeping the floor or doing the dishes. But Isla always put up a fight, no matter what the task.

He stepped inside and sighed heavily. He hadn't noticed the dozens of alcohol bottles and cans strewn about the room earlier—not to mention the pool of vomit in the corner. "Revolting idiot," Ryan grumbled, walking unwillingly to the kitchen for a trash bag and a can of disinfectant spray. He then walked down the hall to the master bedroom and peeled the door open to peer inside. "Mother, I'm cleaning the house now," he said softly. As always, his mother, sitting in her bed, reading a thin book, did not reply—didn't even show any signs of registering she knew he was there. He sighed and softly closed the door.

He walked lightly down the hall, picking up empty cans as he did. He padded into the living room, bag half full already, and continued picking up the revolting cans. With some, only a few sips had been drunken before it was abandoned and forgotten. When the bag filled, he tied it closed tightly and set it by the door for when he was ready to take all the trash out to the bins on the side of the house.

When he'd finally rid the house of all the cans, bottles, cups, jugs, and cases, five large trash bags lay beside the door. He heaved one over his shoulder and held two other in the opposite hand. He stared at the last two for a moment, contemplating picking them up as well. He decided against it; he would just have to make a second trip. He carefully pulled the door open and stepped outside.

Returning to the house after taking out the trash, Ryan began once again for the kitchen for a mop, a scrub brush, and a mask. He paused, mid-step. Confused, he walked over to the far wall, across from the front door. There, a small crack peeked at him from about shoulder level. He prodded it with a tentative index finger, then gasped and quickly drew back when he felt a slippery sludge meet his finger. "Okay. Not a crack," he muttered, instantly thinking it was a slug. But he'd never seen a black slug. Slugs were a light, mud-like brown. And slugs weren't skinny enough to look like a crack in the wall. He watched with wide eyes as the crack-like slug slowly grew bigger. He stepped back as it grew faster, stumbling with a yell of alarm when it exploded to cover his vision in black.


	3. Chapter 2

$35.83

 **Chapter 2**

"Isla! Put it away! Next time, I'm taking it!" a voice tore her sourly from her thoughts. The voice belonged to Ms. Magna, Isla's hHistory teacher. Confused, Isla looked down at her desk, surprised to find she'ds been drawing. She didn't even remember taking out her journal. She slipped the book back into her bag. "Now, Isla, since you seem to be paying such great attention, would you care to answer this question please?" she asked, a clearly fake smile on her lips. Isla stared at the question.

 _In what state did England first settle in the U.S.?_

Isla rolled her eyes., "California,." sShe said mockingly. A snicker came from the girl next to her, Abby. Her teacher sighed.

"No, Isla. Abby, don't encourage wrong answers. Isla is incorrect, can anyone explain to her why she was wrong?" asked Ms. Magna. A boy in the back of the class raised his hand.

"Virginia. The English landed in Virginia by accident,." sSaid the know-it-all.

"Correct, Jason. Good job." The teacher praised. "Do you understand now, Isla?" Isla rolled her eyes under Ms. Magna's stare.

"What makes you think I care?" Isla spat. "This class is so stupid."

"Isla, see me after class." The teacher sighed, irritation clear.

"What!" Isla sprang up straight. "What did I do!" she glared up at the woman with an ice- cold glare.

"Defiance, Isla! How many times have I told you to be quiet today?" Ms. Magna snapped with a challenging tone.

"When! When did you tell me to—"" the bell rang before she could finish. Irritated, she slumped back in to her chair, arms folded over her chest. She held her glare to the teacher as the class quickly evacuated.

When the last student had left, the teacher stepped forward and leaned softly on Isla's desk. "Isla, why do you do this? I've seen you in other classes. I've seen you in the halls. Only in here do you act with that attitude,." sShe lectured. Isla sighed loudly.

"So what, you stalk me?" Isla growled darkly.

"Isla, I'm asking you to at least try to follow instructions, History may not be interesting to you, but it might be to someone else. And you ignorantly talking in that manner is highly rude and distracting,." Ms. Magna continued, ignoring Isla's input.

"Isla?" a new voice said from the doorway. Isla winced and slowly turned her head, resting her gaze on Emily. "What did you do now?" she sighed, leaning against the door frame. She glowered at Isla questioningly.

"Nothing,." Isla snapped.

"Okay? Hey, why was Ryan not here today?" Emily asked after glancing at the teacher.

"Excuse me, but I am in the middle of a—""

"He wasn't here?" Isla choked, worry clear in her eyes as she leaped to her feet, not caring that Ms. Magna had spoken.

"You didn't _know?_ Aren't you _neighbors?"_ Emily inquired, shocked at Isla's reaction.

"Yes, but we leave at different times!" Isla spat, grabbing her bag.

"Isla, come back here, I was not done speaking to you!" Ms. Magna yelled as Isla dragged Emily, loudly protesting, down the hall at top speed.

"Isla, what's going on?, Mmaybe he's just sick!" Emily shrieked. as Tthe front entrance doors of the school opened with a loud bang as Isla slammed her hand into them. Isla shook her head sharply.

"No, Emily, you don't understand! He would tell me if he were sick,." Isla answered, her voice tight. Emily harshly pulled her to a halt. By now, they had run through the parking lot of the school and onto the main road that lead to the neighborhood.

"Isla, why are you freaking out? What is it?" Emily demanded curtly. Isla hung her head.

"His father. He's abusive. Ryan… he could be hurt;, he's been hospitalized before!" Isla squeaked quickly through gasps of breath.

"Why haven't you called Social Services then, if you know? They could help him,." Emily suggested, her expression startled.

"I hate the police. And Ryan doesn't want me to,." Isla said hesitantly.

"Why?"

"Because he's almost eighteen. What's the point of calling them now when he's already almost free?. He doesn't see the point,." Isla mumbled, looking down.

"That's stupid., Hhe can get free now! Um… Isla…. Turn around…."

"No, I'm not going to turn around!" Isla snapped, shaking her head sharply. She cried out in protest when a hand seized her wrist and dragged her backwards. Emily screamed and ran when Isla saw the flash of a dagger and the ice- cold chill of a blade threaten to pierce her neck. Isla struggled, trying not to cut herself and tilt her head to get a look at her attacker. Working up a scream, she took a deep breath, but was cut off when her attacker struck her hard on the back of the head. Isla gave a small, hardly audible cry as her knees gave out from under her, her vision black along the edges. The last thing she was aware of was a single blade of grass in her sight as everything began to fade to black.

Emily was breathing heavily and crying lightly by the time she mounted the porch to Ryan's house. She had tried Isla's house, but no one had answered. Fighting back panic, she banged heavily on the door. Too impatient to stand still and wait, she hopped from foot to foot, fiddling with her necklace, an old habit she did when nervous. After waiting for about a minute, she began to run down the street, towards her house. "Dad!" she screamed, slamming the front door into the wall as she ran in. The man who had been sitting in a dark blue recliner jumped as she charged into the house.

"Emily? Dear, are you all right?, Wwhat is it?" he demanded, striding over to her. Emily shook her head, fighting back a sob.

"Isla…! I don't know what happened., Wwe were talking, and… and this man ran up behind her., I tried to… I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen. Hhe hit her., I didn't know what to do;, I was so scared, I couldn't do anything., I ran and… and I left Isla! I left her with that creep!, Sshe could be hurt, or kidnapped, or…- or dying, or worse, and I left her., Iit's all my fault;, if I had only tried to—"-"

"Emily! Dear, breathe; I can hardly understand what you're saying. Now where were you?" her father demanded, lightly shaking her shoulders.

"Near the park…." sShe managed through ragged breaths.

"Come along, Dear, we'll go look for her,." hHe soothed, picking his car keys up as he ushered her out the door.

Isla groaned as her eyes opened slowly., Hher head was throbbing sharply, and her vision was still alarmingly blurry. It took her a few moments to realize see the shoes tapping rapidly in front of her. She snapped her head up and regretted it instantly at the responding stab of pain. "Stupid brat,." aA deep, husky voice snapped in response to her groan of pain.

"What—"" Sshe winced at the pain that came from speaking., "Wwhat do you want from me?" Isla demanded, slowly raising her head to glare at him. He was a tall man with short blonde hair and dark green eyes. He wore an expensive- looking black suit with a tie tucked into the jacket. He didn't look like any kidnappers Isla had heard about on the news or anything. Of course, Isla had a different opinion now that he really had kidnapped her.

"I think you know what I want,." he chuckled through straight white teeth. Instantly, Isla crossed her legs tightly, and leaned back, as if trying to melt into the wall behind her. "Don't worry, Brat, that's not what I want,." hHe snapped.

"Stop calling me that., Wwhat do you want, and who _are_ you!" Isla demanded feverishly. She gave a little squeak of shock when a blade touched her cheek.

"You needn't know who I am, Brat,." hHe snapped, spitting out the last word like poison. "What I want," he continued, kneeling in front of her, causing the blade to cut her cheek, "is a little ball of energy hidden inside you. Called a Foré. My master needs it,." hHe hissed.

"I don't have any weird fort, or whatever;, I have no idea what you're talking about., Llet me go;, you've got the wrong person!" Isla pleaded quickly, wincing as the blade dug into her cheek. She felt hot blood running down her jaw.

"You do have what I need. And I will get it from you, Isla,." hHe growled slowly. She met his eyes, startled. He looked at her as if trying to tell her something.

"How do you—"" her breath caught when his free hand brushed her uninjured cheek. For some reason, she couldn't make herself pull away.

"I will _not_ fail him."


	4. Chapter 3

$36.55

 **Chapter 3**

Ryan was brutally awoken when his father's steel-toed shoe collided with the side of his head. He shouted in protest when he was dragged to his feet and shoved into the wall. "What'd I tell you! What'd I tell you? Huh?" his father hissed harshly into his ear.

"Father, I-"

"I said I'd beat you if I found anything on this floor! And I come back to find _you_ sleepin' on my God damn floor!"

"Father, please, I-" he cut off with a gasp as his father's fist slammed into his cheek. They both froze when a loud, insistent banging sounded from the door. Ryan held his breath, he knew better than to cry out, he'd learned that lesson log ago. He still had the scar from the metal rod that had struck his chest seven years ago. He had only been ten years old then. They waited until footsteps faded away; Ryan exhaled a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. He hit the ground hard when his father slammed him down. Ryan groaned in pain when his father kicked his chest hard.

"Get up, Boy, are you a coward?" his father challenged darkly through his teeth. Ryan shook his head, but stayed down. He knew if he regained his footing, he'd only be beaten more. And he would be punished farther if he fought back. He cried out when he felt his father's hand grip his hair and pull hard. He stumbled obediently to his feet, trying to pry his father's fingers apart. "What, does that hurt? Well here, I'll help you forget about that." Ryan stumbled back heavily when a fist struck harshly on his cheek. Instantly he spun and ran through the hall and leaned heavily on the back of his bedroom door as it slung shut. He knew his father was too lazy to follow him to his room. He stood there for a moment, trying to calm his breathing.

Slowly, he walked over to the tall mirror in the corner of the room. Though cracked in many places from things his father had thrown, it seemed sturdy enough. His hair was a mess, but Ryan was too distracted by the bruise that was forming just below his left eye to care. He sighed; it was going to be hard to hide a mark that big. He prodded at it tentatively, and cringed at the stab of pain that shot along his jaw. A quick breath of air pulled sharply through his teeth as a sharp sting stirred on his chest. He relaxed, confused, when it quickly faded to nothing. Had his father struck his chest? He couldn't remember. He gasped when a subtle burning began in his chest. It was pleasant at first. Until it began to get worse, becoming uncomfortable. And then painful, quickly progressing to an unbearable burning. Quickly, he drew off his shirt to see what it was. Nothing. There was no mark, no bruise, and no scratch. Just old, healed-over scars. Nothing to show what could be causing the burning. He stumbled from his room and into the bathroom across the hall, the burning worsening with every second. He turned on the shower, turned the knob all the way to cold, and climbed in despite his clothing. That, he realized too late, was a huge mistake. He bit down hard on his cheek to keep from screaming. He tasted the warm metallic taste of his blood as, thankfully, the burn began to subside to a dull throb. He stood there for a few moments before shutting off the water and going back to his room. Weariness quickly took over him as he lay in his bed, almost instantly falling into submission of sleep.

Isla's captor now paced back and forth in front of her, his fingers clasped together, as if trying to keep his patience. Isla's glare followed his every movement. The place she was being kept looked exactly like a house, except void of all furniture and decor. Her hands had been chained behind her to what felt like a rusted pipe. "If you don't let me go, I'll-"

"You'll _what,_ Isla?" You're a weak, prideful, and idiotic 16 year old girl. What can you do? Scream? Talk me to death?" he spat, not breaking his stride as he glowered at her.

"How do you know my—"

"You needn't know that. And shut up." He growled, cutting her off for not the last time.

"Who are you!" Isla snapped, struggling against the frustrating chains. The man only laughed, and stood back to watch her struggle with amusement.

"You're lucky the Master wants you alive. Otherwise I'd have killed you to shut you up by now." He said, looking at his watch as a timer began beeping annoyingly. He flicked it off, walked over to her, and jerked the chain. She shrieked in protest as he dragged her to her feet. She struggled against him as he dragged her into what looked like a kitchen without the cooking appliances. Getting an idea, Isla collapsed onto the floor, a dead weight. The man sighed loudly. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Isla." He growled. Isla's eyes widened in fear when she heard the click of a gun. Pointed right at her head.

"You can't kill me. You said…." She stammered squeakily.

"Idiot. There are other places I can hit that would not kill you." He hissed, moving the gun to point at her right shoulder. "There are pains worse than death, Isla." He flicked his head back, an order to stand. Shaking now, Isla slowly got to her feet with wide eyes. The barrel of the gun prodded her forward, into the room. A man sat at the table, the only piece of furniture. "What?" the man behind her gasped, "Where's the master?" he demanded sharply. The one at the table looked Isla up and down with interest as he replied.

"He got held up." was all he said in a scratchy voice.

"Who are you?" Isla whispered. "Who are you, and who do you keep talking—" she fell silent when she heard the safety of the gun click off.

"I suggest," the wielder of the weapon hissed in her ear. "That you keep your mouth shut. Too many questions bring you into bad situations. Now keep quiet." He spat harshly, causing her to cringe. Isla nodded slowly, eyes wide as she fought the beginnings of panic. Trying to distract herself, she let her mind wander. She thought of Ryan, of Emily, of her mother, her brother, and her father, but noting could quite pull her mind away from the gaze the man at the table held on her.

"The master ordered we take her back to him." The newcomer finally said. Isla lowered her head.

"I won't.…" she mumbled in a small voice.

"I said keep _quiet,_ Brat!" the man behind her struck her hard on the back of the head.

"I will _not_ go anywhere with you, _creep!"_ Isla yelled, bringing a fist back hard, hitting the man directly between the legs. She spun as he groaned in pain, and ran. She made it around the doorway into the small corner just as a bullet shattered part of the door frame. Isla screamed and fell back, scrambling to get to her feet. She nearly made it to the door when a hand caught her hair and yanked, pulling her hard enough for her feet to move out from under her as she was forced back with a scream of fear and pain. "No! Let go! Please, let me go!" she cried, the pain in her head drew tears into her eyes.

"Tears won't get you anywhere." Hissed the man who had been sitting at the table. Isla cried out when a blade was pressed into the cut on her cheek from earlier, tearing open the skin that had begun to heal, deepening the cut.

"You son of a-" the man she'd hit stumbled from the kitchen and ran over to her, punching her hard in the gut as he swore repeatedly. Isla gave a hoarse cry of pleading as he heaved her over his shoulder and began stomping towards the door.

Isla saw her chance. She took hold of the top of the door frame and pulled sharply, dragging the un-expectant man back as she pulled free and ran, blindly, from the house and down the street. She screamed instinctively when she ran into the body of a man who instantly took hold of her shoulders.

"Isla!" an alarmed voice broke through the fear. "Isla, Dear, can you hear me? Dear, look at me, it's me, you're all right now, I'm not going to hurt you!" Dr. Yuujiro Harasagi said in a rush, shaking her shoulders lightly in an attempt to snap her out of her terror. Isla managed to focus, panicked, on the man before her and the frightened face of Emily behind him. "Y-Yuuji…." Isla stammered before her legs gave out and he caught her, Emily giving a startled cry.


	5. Chapter 4

$37.20

 **Chapter 4**

 _"Hear me, Boy." the voice of an old wise man rumbled around him. Ryan stood in the middle of a black nothingness. The dark of a misty midnight in the calm of a storm._

 _"Who are you?" Ryan finally asked to no one he could see._

 _"You will find out who I am in time, Boy. I come with a warning. Heed it well." came the answering response._

 _"Warning...?" Ryan asked, finding it hard to think through the fog that swirled around his feet and through his mind._

 _"You bear the Mark, Boy," the man said calmly, "the Mark of The Cursed One. But it is not you who is Cursed. You befriend the most dangerous of foes, you will only have to make the hardest of choices when the war begins."_

 _"War...? What war...? And who is it...? How can I avoid the person if I do not know who it is?" Ryan asked, his mind slowly clearing._

 _"You will know, Boy, the child of the Cursed One is near. You bear their Mark. Their Mark of Binding. You will know." the unhelpful answer responded, beginning to fade._

 _"Wait!" Ryan said loudly, "Can't you tell me more? What... what does any of this have to do with me!"_

 _"Farewell, Ryan. For we will meet again soon. Remember my warning well."_

Ryan's eyes snapped open to focus, dazed, on his ceiling. Blearily, he sat up, trying to recall the details of his strange dream. Was it really just a dream...? He shivered when his bare feet touched the freezing floor as he stood up. He groaned, the pain from yesterday now prominent. He stepped in front of the mirror to check his bruises. The mark on his cheek looked even worse now, it had had time to swell over the night. But Ryan's eyes only rested on the bruise for a moment. His eyes remained locked on his torso. A mark, looking as if it were inked onto his skin like a tattoo, looking like a rope. The rope started in a loop on his chest, then entwined itself downward until it spread apart to wrap around his body at the stomach.

"The Cursed One's Mark of Binding." he mumbled, trailing his fingers over the mark. It felt like nothing was there. Just skin. A bang on the door tore him from his mind. Quickly, he drew on a dark shirt, choosing not to wear white, the black mark might show through and raise questions out of everyone. He swung open the door and ducked aside as a dart shot past his ear. His father had been throwing darts at his door. The older man's cold brown eyes bore down ruefully into the younger's amber ones.

"Get out of my house, Boy." his father spat, throwing another dart as Ryan turned to avoid it impaling his shoulder. "I ain't going to work today, and I don't want you in my sight. Now get out. You're breathing my air." Ryan silently dipped his head and quickly left down the hall, through the main room, and out the door. He locked the door, and turned. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw a police car and ambulance sitting in front of the house next door. Isla's house. He sprung forward and leaped from the porch with a practiced grace, recoiling slightly upon landing and took off running across the yard to Isla's front door. Banging on it twice in warning, he shoved it open and ran inside.

"She's in shock, she'll be better fit to talk when she's calmed." a woman was saying to a uniformed officer. She must have been an EMS volunteer.

"We searched the house. It was empty, with no sign of damage other than age. Especially no bullet damage. Are you sure she's-" the irritated officer stopped when he saw Ryan standing in the doorway. "Young man, who are you? I was not given information of an older brother. Only younger." the man said accusingly.

"I'm not her brother." Ryan said stoutly to the man who was already quickly irritating him. "I'm a friend." he walked carefully to the couch where Isla sat, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms around her legs protectively. She didn't move when he carefully sat beside her. "Isla...?" he said very quietly. She still didn't move. "Izie, can you hear me...? It's me, Izie. It's Ryan, you know me." he slowly moved his hand out to touch her shoulder. Isla made a noise of frightened protest and pushed herself back and away from him. He pulled his hand back quickly and turned his gaze to the tall blonde woman who's long hair was pulled back in a tail. She wore the blue shirt and white pants of an EMS volunteer. "What happened to her." he demanded curtly.

"She was attacked. Kidnapped, but she managed to get away. She's in shock. She can hear you, though she may not respond. Give her time to calm down before you touch her." the woman said back, ignoring the stiffness of his tone.

"Supposedly kidnapped." the officer put in. The woman looked mildly annoyed at the comment.

"R...Ry...Ryan...?" asked a very small voice from beside him. Careful not to move too quickly, he turned to face her. She had tensed, and still sat with her arms like a shield around her, but she had, ever so slightly, lifted her head.

"Izie..." he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Y...you weren't at school..." she mumbled. He blinked in disbelief. Despite the alarm he felt, Ryan couldn't help but laugh.

"All this happens and you can only think that I wasn't at _school?_ " he asked through a chuckle.

"The bruise..."she mumbled. Ryan's hand flew up to his cheek. He swore inwardly. He had forgotten to cover it.

"Young lady, would you mind answering a few questions for me?" the police officer asked, cutting off Ryan's answer. Isla didn't answer.

"She's not really comfortable with police, Sir." Ryan answered for her. The man rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"For God's sake, it's not like I'm going to arrest her." he said in a tight voice, tired of the stalling. "If we don't get information, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do." Ryan saw Isla bury her face in her knees at the last part. Ryan grit his teeth, biting back a defensive retort.

"There's never anything you can do..." Ryan muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" snapped the man with a warning tone. Ryan held up his hands in surrender.

"Nothing, Sir." he said calmly. The man scowled at him darkly. The woman, Ryan noticed, was grinning and trying not to laugh. He knew she'd heard him. Ryan turned his attention back to Isla. Her eyes were wide, as if she didn't see the wooden floor she was staring at.

"There was a man," she said in a small voice. "He knocked me out. When I woke up... I was sitting in that house tied up... he threatened me... he said I had something he needed... I don't have it, I don't even know what a foré is, I don't have it, I don't have it." her voice broke as she buried her face in her knees. Nobody spoke as she took a deep breath to steady herself, and lifted her head back up. "He took me into another empty room... almost empty... another guy was sitting at a table... I don't really think he was supposed to be there... at least wasn't the right person... They kept talking about taking me to their master... I remember he shot at me... and pulled my hair... and picked me up to take me somewhere... But I got free... The next thing I remember is Yuujiro yelling at me that he wasn't going to hurt me... then I woke up later to him on the phone with the police..." she trailed off into silence, this time she didn't pull away when Ryan wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He could feel her shivering slightly against him. He knew he would never get her to calm down until he got rid of the police officer.

"I think you haven't searched properly. Don't you think you should be doing your _job_ and _protecting_ someone who was just _kidnapped?"_ Ryan demanded in a low voice. He felt Isla tense lightly, the only sign of her warning. Still, Ryan continued, "If you're not going to offer help, then I am asking you to get out of this house, do not make me step outside of asking."

"Young man, watch your tongue," snapped the police officer. "Haven't your parents taught you to treat authority with respect?" Ryan instantly stood up, pulling his shoulders back in anger.

"My father has no intention, need, nor desire to teach me anything. Now get out. You have no warrant. Get out." Ryan said darkly, his face void of emotion, his voice neutral and poisonous all at the same time.

"Ryan..." Isla mumbled in plea. He gave in and returned to his place beside her. He let his body relax, but he kept his eyes on the man until the door closed him and the woman following in his wake out of sight.


	6. Chapter 5

$32.23

 **Chapter 5**

 _You can't escape us, Isla, we can walk in your dreams. We have eyes on you. No matter where you go. We will find you._

Isla woke up with a scream. Almost instantly, her mother ran in and pulled her daughter into her arms. She'd woken to nightmares for the past week. It took a while, but eventually Isla managed to relax as she drew away. After a moments hesitation, her mother stood, and began to leave. She paused at the desk beside the door. Yet another picture of Junpei lay on the desk. However, in this picture, the usual calm expression Isla drew, had changed to a look of anger. Isla never quite understood why, she had done that almost without thinking. A sigh escaped Syren's lips as she tore the page free. Isla cringed as she balled it up and walked out.

Slowly, Isla stood and gathered up the contents of her school bag. She'd been using school as a distraction. She'd even been doing her History homework. Ryan had made it a point to show up at school every day, the now healing bruise covered with make-up almost perfectly. He'd had a slight limp the day before. She'd guessed his father had kicked him, though he claimed he'd pulled a muscle while at dance practice. She sighed as she heaved the bag over her shoulder. A few minutes later, she stepped out of the car and ran for the shelter of the building from the beginnings of rain.

She sat at her desk in Ms. Magna's History class. Emily, being a new student to the school, had been thankfully placed in the same class. Emily wrapped her arms around Isla before pulling away and taking her seat at the desk behind her. As the bell rang, the teacher hurried in and closed the door. "I hope you all did your homework!" was the greeting she gave as she stood in the front of the room. A complain arose from the class, as some pulled out the packet they'd been given for homework. Most desks, however, remained clear. "Isla, spit the gum out." she said, hardly even glancing down at her.

"Fine." Isla said, curling her tongue around the gum to form a cannon as she launched it, watching it land an inch away from the teacher's open-toed shoe.

"Isla Witte! Office! Now!" the woman yelled, anger unrestrained. Isle heard Emily pull a sharp breath behind her. Isla shrugged, stood, and swung her bag over her shoulder. "Your parents _will_ hear about this, Isla, I hope at least _they_ can handle you." Ms. Magna said darkly. Isla paused outside the door.

"Correction, Ma'am," Isla said calmly without turning around. "Parent. My dad's dead." she then slammed the door with a loud bang and walked without a purpose down the stairs and up to the front office.

She stood in the principal's office, waiting, bored, for the man to finish his lecturing speech about how this was the seventh time she'd been sent here in the past month, blah, blah. "She said to spit it out." Isla said pointedly when he'd finished. The man became oddly calm, though his stiff posture gave away his irritation as he folded his hands on his desk, leaning on his forearms.

"Ms. Witte, you know what she wanted you to do, it was a _simple_ task. You're not allowed to chew gum in school, you know that. Why are so _defiant_ , Isla? You don't need to do this, you're a good student, your grades are good, and you clearly understand what's going on. Yet you act so _ignorantly_. I just don't know what to do anymore. But enough. ISS. For two days. Now leave me." he said dismissively. Instantly, she stood, and walked out of his office. His office felt gross. It was always hot and felt small. She walked to the restroom upstairs where she stayed for the next hour before returning to class two minutes before the dismissal bell rang.

When it rang, Emily left without a word. Isla was about to snap at her when she realized why she'd run off. Ryan stood leaning on the door frame, his arms folded over his chest, his face void of emotions. Yet somehow, his gaze bore into her harshly. The teacher ignored their existence for the time being. "What," he finally spoke. "Did you think you were doing." he said rather than asked. His tone was cold, a voice he didn't usually use.

"I thought you had Dance practice... and how did you-"

"No, actually, you didn't think. You _never_ think. That was a stupid move, Isla. Let's go. Now. You _will_ apologize on Monday. Through letter, word, and action. To both your teacher, and your mother. Now let's go." he said, his voice strained.

"But Ryan, you can't-"

 _"Now, Isla!"_ he fumed. Isla cringed and walked out reluctantly. He walked quickly ahead of her, not bothering to check if she followed. With no other option, slowly, she followed. Sometimes, he acted too much like an older brother, she hated it. When he went overly brotherly, he treated her like a child.

They got over halfway home when he stopped. Instantly, she stopped, not wanting to close the ten foot distance she'd maintained the entire walk home. She didn't move away, however, when he walked over to her. "Izie." he said, his anger gone. She only stiffened when he pulled her into a hug. It took a while, but she eventually relaxed and hugged him back. "I'm sorry. I was harsh. I didn't mean to be." he said softly, his chin on her shoulder. She nodded, not saying anything. "Did you have another dream?" again, though a little hesitant this time, she nodded. "What happened?" he asked softly. Isla shook her head sharply, screwing her eyes shut. "Izie, you can tell me. It's okay."

Slowly, she pulled away from him, keeping her eyes down as she took a deep breath, "They said-"

"We have eyes on you everywhere, Isla. No matter where you go, what you do, we will find you. You cannot escape." A voice said almost mechanically. Isla spun, Ryan tensed. The figure of a man stood leaning up against a street light. Ryan took Isla's shoulder and pulled her behind him.

"You will not touch her. As long as I am standing, you will either take me down too, or you get nowhere near her. Either way, I will not let you pass without a fight." Ryan's voice came out crisp and clear, though he was stiff and tense with the air of threat. Isla gasped when a hand gripped her arm and pulled it behind her back harshly. Ryan spun, finding them outnumbered. At least a dozen people blocked all exits.

"Ryan!" Isla yelled in an attempt to warn him of the approaching threat. A wooden rod struck him in the back of the head, still, he kept his footing as he spun and struck out at the hooded figure. Isla struggled harshly, thrashing and twisting, trying to pull free. The moment she pulled free she fought against the added hands that worked to restrain her. She looked around wildly for Ryan, but all her eyes could find was a mass of bodies shrouding a thrashing figure. After a moment, to her horror, the figure went rigid, then collapsed limply to the ground.

It took three people to life him from the ground. "Will you follow him, Isla...?" the man who hadn't moved from the light pole throughout the struggle asked, bored. "Or run? Run and we will only follow." Isla struggled as they began to carry Ryan off.

She knew it was a trap. Still, she ceased her fighting. "I'll go." she spat at him. "I won't let him go alone." they began to swarm her, frog marching her in the direction they'd taken Ryan. They hadn't even reached the main road when Isla got struck on the head harshly, and felt arms catch her as everything blurred.


	7. Chapter 6

$49.76

 **Chapter 6**

When Isla came to, she was still being held. Remembering, she looked around, finding Ryan being carried by three people, still unconscious. A few minutes later, she heard him groan, slowly opening his eyes. "Ryan!" she gasped, wishing she could help him. After a long moment of lying there dazed, his body stiffened. He looked around until his eyes found her. He began to fight again. Almost instantly, a woman struck his head, knocking him out again to keep him from causing trouble.

After a long moment, Isla let her body relax, letting her mind wander. She wondered where they were taking her, who they were, why they wanted her, and what they would do with both of them. When would her mother notice she wasn't coming back? Would Leon be all right? Growing up without his sister. Who would beat up any bullies he got? Or tease him when he got his first crush? Forget an actual girlfriend. Or maybe a boyfriend? If he came home with a boyfriend she would probably just collapse in happiness. And Emily. She wondered if she'd find a new best friend. She hoped Emily would help her family cope without her. She snapped out of it when a gate creaked open noisily on its rusty hinges to reveal a tall house that looked like it used to be a mansion. Now it just looked like an old run-down huge shed. The person carrying her walked in and dropped her to the hard floor without warning. She stared around her as people left the dimly lit room, leaving Isla and an unconscious Ryan alone with one man. The man who'd kidnapped her a week ago.

Again, she heard Ryan groan as he began to gain consciousness. Isla ignored the man and moved over to Ryan's side and felt his forehead. She could only guess how many times they'd knocked him out before she'd come to. He felt hot and feverish. Slowly, he opened his eyes. It took a long moment for his bleary eyes to focus on her. "Izie...?" he mumbled, confused. "What happened, I don't... remember." he winced and placed a hand on his head. Isla lifted her eyes to glare at the man who was staring at them impatiently.

"Why did you hit him!" she accused, "His father does it enough, he's hurt!"

"Good, he's too incapacitated to fight back now. Or for you." the man snapped as he ran forward and kicked her hard in the face, knocking her harshly sideways with a cry. Ryan instantly began to push himself into a sitting position. Isla scrambled back over and lightly pushed him back to the floor, trying to blink the dust from her watery eye.

"Don't touch her." Ryan seethed through his teeth, trying weakly to pull her hand off of his shoulder.

"My master will be here soon, Brat, keep your boyfriend in line of I'll knock him out again." the man growled.

"He's _not_ my-"

"Enough, children!" A new voice said, sounding lightly amused. "Vanic, you may go." the man who finally had a name glowered at her, but obediently began to walk past. He paused to kick Ryan square in the head, then continued on his way. Isla gave a frustrated cry of protest as Ryan's eyes began to close again, a small tickle of blood coming from a cut on his forehead. "Hello, Isla. It's been too long." the voice of the man said slowly, he sounded hesitant, and oddly familiar. She knew that voice, but couldn't seem to place it. Then she stiffened. Slowly, reluctantly, she lifted her head. Across the room were three stairs leading up to a higher platform. Kind of looking like a smaller, less elegant throne room. On the platform stood a man. He was tall, his dark hair down to his chin, his bangs constantly being pushed from his right eye. His face, angular, but soft. Though a kidnapper, he had smile lines. Despite them, he wore a frown now, one of hesitation than of anger. His eyes a deep amber, similar to her light amber eyes.

She knew that face. She had memorized it. Memorized every line on his face, the features no one but an artist could see, and captured the depth to his eyes. She had drawn it a hundred times over, yet she hadn't quite been able to capture him perfectly. "Dad..." she could only manage a whisper. A strained smile hinted at his lips. Carefully, he stepped down one step. Instinctively, she tensed and wrapped her arms around Ryan's shoulders protectively.

Her father paused, and raised his hands to show he wasn't going to do anything. "I'm not going to hurt you, Isla." he said solemnly, stepping down onto the second step.

"Like you weren't letting your followers hurt either of us?" she challenged, not moving her eyes from him.

"Isla... if you would only hear me out-"

"Hear you out?" she spluttered, anger and tears fighting to win a dominant emotion. "You disappear from my life for _five years,_ and you suddenly show up out of nowhere and all you say is _hear you out?_ Did you ever hear _me_ out? When I _begged_ you to come out of that fire, when I cried to every God I could think of to bring you back! You were dead! You're dead! You're not real, it's a lie, you died!" she screamed, hiding her face in Ryan's un-comforting, limp shoulder.

There was a long pause before he spoke. "They never found a body in the ashes." he said slowly.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and lifted her head to look at him again. "You are dead," she said in a cold voice. "You abandoned me. Five years I thought you were dead. Now, you ask me to see you, and run to you calling you 'Daddy' like I did when I was eleven. Well I'm not eleven anymore. You abandoned me. Leon does not know you. He does not remember you. Katie is dead. She died in the fire. An infant, who had barely begun her life. You abandoned us. You left us alone thinking you were dead. I don't care if you're sorry. No matter how much I missed you. That doesn't matter now. You are dead to me. Now that I see you, I hate you. For what you did to your wife, to your daughters, to your son. I _hate_ you. You have no right to speak to me, why you even try is beyond me, you have no right!" she carried on in that icy tone, raking over him with her empty gaze. All the while, he didn't move, even looked as if he understood. But he didn't. There was no way he could ever understand the way he tore a rift in their lives. He could never put back together what'd been shattered.

"I know." he finally said in a soothing voice. "Isla, all I have done is to protect you. Please, Isla you must listen to me." the pleading in his voice caught her attention. And maybe it was the child in her- longing to have a father back- that made her nod. "Isla, child, I did this to protect you. Yes, kidnapping does not seem exactly the best way to protect someone, but I had to make it seem like it was unwilling. You wouldn't have fought back as much if you'd known. Isla, I don't know an easy way to tell you this, so I am just going to come out and say it." he said, taking the last step to the floor and cautiously came forward to kneel before her to bring himself to her level. "If she found out, it would cause you more pain."

"If... who found out...?" Isla managed, uncharacteristically uneasy.

"Syren, Isla. Your mother." he said, searching her expression. He blinked back his surprise when she began laughing. "What is funny?" he asked, confused.

"Mum?" she asked through a laugh, "You think _Mum_ is out to get me?" she could hardly hold back her laughing. "I know you guys had some arguments, but not bad enough to the point you'd accuse her of being an antagonist."

"Isla. I am serious. Look at me. How often does your mother let you out of the house after dark? Especially alone?" he asked, not in the least entertained.

"Never. But that was because she was afraid I'd get hurt." Isla concluded.

"How often did she let you stay at a friend's house overnight?" he questioned.

"I don't see what this has to do with anything..." Isla mumbled, hesitation leaking into her voice.

"Isla. I am serious. She hardly let you out of the house, did she? You were grounded most of the year, weren't you? I'm surprised she let you anywhere _near_ Ryan. With him working for me and all, she must have known." Junpei continued without a pause.

"What..." Isla gasped, her eyes growing wide. She looked slowly down at Ryan's unconscious face. He looked so calm. But upon hearing this, his face became that of a stranger. He worked for him? To... to spy on her...? Was all of it a lie? This whole time, was he just... following orders? Just doing what his boss wanted? Did she really know the boy laying at her knees? She felt her eyes water and fought harshly to blink them back. "He's... all this time... all this time, he's just... been doing what you wanted him to...?" she managed, her voice beginning to shake. Her father looked at her then with wide eyes.

"No!" he said quickly. "No, Isla. He did not know he was helping me. I pulled images from his mind while he slept. To keep an eye on you. To make sure you were not hurt. Though, in doing this, I may have caused him pain. Do you know why his father beat him so?" he asked softly. Isla shook her head, struggling to calm her mind. "Because his father works with your mother. Isla, it's hard to understand. But please, you must try your hardest to stay out of your mother's anger. She's been calm for the past few years. But Isla, she knows who 'kidnapped' you, and she's not happy about it. She knows now that I am very much alive. And I will go to any extent to protect you." she stared at him, wide eyed.

"But why..." she managed finally, "What's so huge about me that she would... Mum would... hurt me for..." she grit her teeth to keep from crying at the tortured look in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Isla, child... there is something about you... It is no object. It is part of you. A strange aura of... of power. Power to what, I do not know. Nor do I truly want to find out. However, your mother wants it. And I fear that upon freeing this power, it would kill you. And I have no intention of letting this happen." he explained, all the while, Isla felt sicker and sicker.

"The foré..." she mumbled through a sour taste in her mouth. He nodded lightly. She jumped when Ryan uttered a groan, his head tuning to the side as he began to wake. Junpei waved a hand over Ryan's forehead and stared at nothing for a long moment before he blinked, drawing in a sharp, alarmed breath.

"You must go. Now." he ordered, standing up.

"What?" Isla gasped. "What do you mean, what's happening?" she demanded, tensing.

"Go, Isla. I was not asking." he replied, avoiding the question.

"I don't know where we are, why do I have to go? If Mum's so dangerous, why do I have to go back, why can't I stay here?" she questioned in one breath. He looked down at her, a small smile on his lips.

"It's been so long, and believe me, I have missed you as you have me. But Isla, you cannot stay here. It's dangerous for you right now. Especially Ryan. Now go. I will see you again, Isla. Go quickly. Run home. Get there before your mother, act like nothing happened, tell _no one_ of this. The boy will not remember any he's seen. Do not speak to him of it. Stay out of trouble however you can. Step cautiously. And do not, under _any_ circumstances, go near that boy's father, do you hear me? Now go!" he waved in the direction of the door. Isla shook her head to clear her mind. She stood carefully, heaved Ryan to his feet, and ran, dragging the half conscious boy behind her.


	8. Chapter 7

$58.24

 **Chapter 7**

Ryan woke with a cold rag on his forehead. He looked over at the door when it opened, seeing Isla leaving. "Izie...?" he managed, his voice airy from the dry throat. "What happened...?" her answer was a shake of the head, still holding the door, faced away from him. He knew what that meant. "Izie? What's wrong?" she didn't answer, but began to close the door. "Isla...!" he said louder, but the door banged shut, hardly letting him finish. He blinked, confused, and tried to remember what had happened.

Maybe he'd been an idiot and made a move. Maybe she'd panicked and knocked him out. What a way to reject someone... He pursed his lips. He wondered _what_ move could have gotten him knocked out. Had to have been worse than a kiss. He sat up quickly when he heard his father's car door slam. He snatched up the rag, got to his feet, and went quickly to his room. He lie on his bed, trying to calm the pounding in his head when his father banged harshly on the door. He stood and regarded his father with a calmed irritation. "Yes, Father?" he asked, blocking the doorway.

"Where you been, Boy?" the man asked in reply.

"Here." Ryan responded calmly. He tried to pull away, but his father gripped the front of his shirt and dragged him forward, bringing their faces inches apart. Ryan held his glare up at his father, and stiffened.

"You gonna lie to me, Boy? Where you been? Last chance." his father hissed, his breath made Ryan want to gag.

"I don't know. Father, I do not know." Ryan said honestly, trying hard to remember what on earth he'd done.

"Liar!" the man spat angrily. "You been with that _girl,_ haven't you!"

"I don't know!" Ryan cut in. "Father, I don't know. For the fourth time." he tensed when the man holding him in place raised a fist.

"Don't mouth off to me, Boy, or you won't be able to talk for a month." he growled darkly.

"Of course, your Highness, why would I _ever_ wish to _not_ be able to speak to you?" Ryan spat, flicking his wrist up just in time to block his father's swing. He clenched his teeth together when his father wrapped his fingers around his jaw and gripped. He pulled them together again to where they were inches apart.

"You won't be leaving this house for a long time, Boy." Ryan was a little too late to block the fist from striking his stomach. He pulled in a sharp breath, but kept his teeth closed. He brought up his knee and struck his father in the gut, but that only earned another hard punch to the stomach. He closed his eyes tight, but his mouth held firm. When his father's fist connected for a third time with his abdomen, Ryan felt the stabbing pain of a rib breaking. In that pain, his focus on his mouth subsided for a split second. In that split second, he gave a tiny yell of pain, opening his teeth the smallest amount. His father noticed, and took a tight hold of his jaw.

Ryan struggled weakly against the bigger man as the left hand of his father gripped the top teeth of his mouth, pulling it open. He could taste the salt of his father's fingers that pressed against the roof of his mouth. He locked his wide eyes on his father's, fighting to break free of the hold. He struggled in an odd position to push his father back, but he knew it was a pathetic attempt. "See how _dancing_ has helped you, Boy? You're _weak_. Maybe this'll teach you to keep your mouth shut!" his father spat as he jerked his right hand sideways. A scream of pain tore from Ryan's throat as his father slammed him to the floor. He lay there, too stunned to move, watching as the world spun and began to blur. He lost the will to fight back, so when he felt someone shift his head, he let them. He didn't care anymore. His father could beat him all he wanted, He didn't care, as long as he was dead by the end of it. He creased his eyebrows in confusion when the face that looked down on him didn't match that of his father. He saw long, light brown hair fall from the shoulders of a woman with a small, angular face with full lips. The thing he found himself focusing on were the brown eyes that streamed tears, and eyebrows creased with fear and worry.

"M..." he screwed his eyes shut at the pain that came with the slight movement of his lips.

"Shh." was all he heard from his mother before his eyes flickered closed. The first sound he'd heard her make in the past twelve years.

Ryan's eyes slowly peeled open, the blur beginning to focus on the bright lights of the hospital room ceiling. He looked around slowly, not at all surprised to see his father standing by the door, glaring murderously at him. His mother was seated in a chair in the corner of the room, her hands folded in her lap, and her head bowed, refusing to look at her son. He took a deep breath when his father marched over to his bedside and wrapped an angered hand around his throat.

"Tell anyone about this, Boy, and I promise, I will kill that woman while you watch helplessly from the floor with broken legs. And then I will burn that girl to death before you, letting you hear her scream. But I will let you live. Let you keep that memory of their screaming for the rest of your miserable life. Is that clear?" he hissed fiercely in his ear. Ryan remained frozen, not daring to move. "Is that clear!" his father spat again, flexing the fingers that held his neck. Slowly, Ryan nodded once, his eyes wide. His father's hand drew away, allowing him to breathe again.

As his father stood, the door swing open, and a tall woman swept in. She had short dyed blonde hair that showed her brown roots that she didn't seem to care about. It swung out before it touched her shoulders, and ended in small spiked tips. She had deep brown eyes that had a rusty tint to them that glanced quickly about the room, and seemed to linger on his father, analyzing him as a doctor would examine a wound. Then she looked down at Ryan, and back to his father.

"What are you doing." she demanded instantly, crossing the room to stand beside Ryan's bed and pulled back her shoulders as she took in the man before her.

"Happy to see my son awake after so long. I've been worried, as any parent should, wouldn't you agree, Dr. Szala?" Ryan's father asked, smiling almost convincingly as he extended a hand towards her. Instantly, she stiffened.

"I am no longer a parent, Mr. Cantor, and that was not the most... relieved form of greeting, standing over a weakened boy as you were." she said sharply, folding her arms over her chest. Slowly, he lowered his arm, staring at her uncertainly.

"Are you trying to _suggest_ something, Doctor?" the man asked, his tense shoulders gave away his calm voice. "Because if you're suggesting that I have-"

"Mr. Cantor, may I speak with you in the hallway, please?" she said, gesturing towards the door. She glanced down at Ryan to see him confused on why his teeth wouldn't follow his body's command. "Ryan, Sweetie, don't do that." she said, her voice softer somehow. "Your mouth has been wired shut, we had to immobilize it in order for it to heal. I'll get you a pen and some paper later so you can show your parents or myself what you want to say. But for the next four to six weeks, I'm afraid you will not be able to speak. I hope you like soup." she winked as she ushered his father from the room and into the hall.

He found himself staring at his mother. Had he dreamed she'd spoken? Or helped him? She must have at least helped him, otherwise, how would he be in the hospital? His father would have left him on the floor to die of agony. Maybe Isla had found him? No, she wouldn't have gone into the house with his father there. His eyes widened when she slowly lifted her head to return his gaze. He lie still as she slowly crossed the room to him. "I'm sorry..." she hardly whispered, her left hand on the elbow of her right arm. Ryan slowly shook his head. "Don't say that." she managed as if he'd actually spoken. "Seventeen years... seventeen years I've let you suffer... it's all my fault... I could have helped you... protected you... all these years, I've sat by. I've listened helplessly as you got hurt... and only now did I move... and even then, I needed a shove... Ryan... I'm so sorry... there is no way to atone for what I've put you through..." she looked away, the grip on her elbow tightening.

Ryan stared at her for a long time, before forcing himself out of his stupor. Slowly, he raised his hand and folded his fingers around her wrist. She cringed, and slowly moved her eyes to his again. Instantly, he pulled hard on her arm, drawing her to him as he wrapped his arms around her. She stayed frozen there for a long moment, before she allowed herself to return the motion. She jumped up and spun when the door opened, her eyes wide with alarm. Her body relaxed when Dr. Szala walked in alone carrying a stack of paper and a pen.

"It's just me." she said as she closed the door behind her.

"Where's Victor...?" Ryan's mother asked quietly, bracing herself against the bedside table.

The doctor pulled out an empty shot needle and spun it around in her fingers. "Sleep sedatives." she said deviously as she handed Ryan the stack of papers and the writing utensil. He graciously took them and touched a button on the remote on the table that assisted him to sit up, then began to scribble quickly on the first paper. When he was done, he turned it to face the doctor.

 _ **Can't you get fired for that?**_ She read it and smiled.

"Only if I get caught. And who do you think will be believed? A doctor who has worked here for twenty years, or a big surly man who had been shouting for the past five minutes?" she asked calmly, and then looked over at the woman beside him. "I'm glad you were able to see reason, Abigail. What you did may have saved him from farther pain. I'm glad you brought him here. I will do what I can to keep him here as long as I can, so he is not forced to return home to endure more." she placed a hand lightly on his mother's shoulder before looking back to Ryan at the sound of a paper flicking as he turned it towards her.

 _ **How did you know? About Father?**_ he stared at her with searching eyes. She shook her head with a small smile.

"Sweetie, I've known for a long time. A long time. I first got my suspicions when you were taken here when you were very young. A five year old bleeding from 23 cuts on his arms, legs and face from falling down the stairs? Those aren't the wounds you receive from that. And the way he brought you around the place. A true parent would at least try to console a crying child in pain, hold their hand, and show true concern. Not drag them about behind them by the bleeding arm and speak so harshly. I knew last year. When you were taken here and the way you froze up whenever he spoke to you, or placed a hand on your shoulder as he tried to show me he cared. Your child should never have to have their guard up so high around a parent. You gave the signs. Sweetie, I've seen abused children too many times to be blind to the signs. And your mother," she said, switching her gaze to the woman who stared at her in shock. "What woman would stay so silent when her child lie in a hospital bed in pain if nothing were going on? What mother would never look her child in the eye?" she said slowly, never moving her eyes. After a moment, his mother lowered her head in shame. "But then I realized," Dr. Szala continued. "That she had no choice. If that woman had spoken out, the same would have happened to her. And for the resentment I once felt for her, I regret. And when I called you here, I was grateful that you were willing to make a move, Abigail. That decision may have saved his life. A broken jaw would not kill him. But the pain it would cause, would only have driven him to want to die. So it was a lucky thing he had you." she finished, looking back at Ryan.

 _ **What about Isla. Something happened, I know something did. He threatened to hurt her as well. I need to know she is safe. As well as her mother and Emily. Dr. Szala, thank you. It may be a late attempt to you, but I am glad of it. But, I regret to say, I do not want your help. I do not want another involved. My father is a fool, there is no mistake of that. But with your involvement, you step in the line of fire. You have made yourself a target. And I will not have you get hurt for my sake. Please understand, I truly am grateful. But I must ask you to stay out of this.**_ The doctor stiffened continuously all while she read what he had written.

"Ryan, do not be an idiot. I don't care if you want help or not. And right now, you're just being selfish. You think you are the only one in danger? What of your mother? Did you think of what will happen to her? Do you really believe he does not know she has finally stepped in? Do you think he will leave her be? Or the girls you want to protect? They're in danger too. You're being selfish. I will not stay out of it. No matter how many times you request it. Now. I am going to check with Dr. Tucker, who is supposed to be giving me a heads up when your father wakes up. Don't try to talk. And I will have someone call the girls for you. And don't get up. Your legs will be weak. And walking will give you pain." She continues as she took the paper he'd written on and ripped it up, dropping the scraps in the trash as she swung the door closed behind her.


	9. Chapter 8

$91.17

 **Chapter 8**

Isla woke to the sound of tapping shoes. She glanced around, alarmed to find herself not in her room. She saw the man pacing back and forth, and stumbled back, giving a startled cry when she fell off the edge of the bed she'd been laid on. "Isla!" Junpei fretted as he glided over and pulled her to her feet. "Are you all right?" she rubbed her head as she remembered he was still alive. She still felt shocked and disbelieving whenever she thought about it.

"Yeah," she grumbled. "Yeah, I'm all right. But why am I here...?" she asked, looking around at the gray, dim building.

"Because-" he broke off and began pacing again, his hand over his mouth with his eyebrows creased in thought.

"Um... any reason you're storming back and forth like a madman?" she asked, tilting her head as her eyes followed his movements. He paused as if he hadn't realized he had been moving, and dropped his eyes.

"Isla, I have... something to tell you, and I-" he paused and looked up, he looked as if he were trying to push away an onslaught of anger.

"Tell me what...?" Isla asked, only getting more confused.

"I don't know how. I can't. It's too much to bear." he continued more to himself than to her.

"Will you _please_ just tell me!" she snapped, irritated.

"I can't!" he retorted sharply, his anger breaking through.

 _"Dad!"_

"I am not your father!" he spat, catching himself too late. Isla's eyes widened, she looked as if he'd struck her. He sighed as he looked away. "Don't give me a title I do not own."

"What do you mean. Did Mum lie? She _lied_ about all of it, about _me,_ how-"

"No!" he cut her off, taking a step towards her, but stopped when she stepped back. "Isla, listen before you do something rash." he said, closing the space between them and taking her hand. He tightened his hold when she tried to draw back.

Isla glared up as him coldly. "Who. Am. I." she said slowly, feeling her shoulders shake with the effort of keeping in her anger.

"Believe me, I am just as surprised as you, Isla, but you will never understand unless you _listen._ You _are_ me biological daughter. Technically. But it was not... natural chance that you turned out as you are. You were already... formed. Your hair color, your gender, your personality, all of that was already decided because you already existed before you were remade. You were sent here. By your true father. Well... your original father." he searched her expression as he explained, watching as confusion formed and only grew more so.

"You're not making any sense..." she mumbled, not all that enthusiastic about hearing an elaboration. He pursed his lips and thought for a moment.

"Isla, I had _no_ prior knowledge of this until about half an hour before I brought you here. You understand that, yes?" carefully, she nodded. "Isla, Dear. You are not from here. And when I say here, I mean this world. You belong to another world. A world of gods, magic, and mysteries that I will never belong. And your father is... one of them. Dear, he's... he spoke to me in a dream. He gave you up to protect you from being burdened with that life. He wanted you to be happy, and he knew you never would be there. So he sent you to be reborn as a human girl. You were reborn to me and your mother." he enunciated clearly, looking pained as he watched her expression change through realization, anger, pain, fear, and understanding as he spoke.

"Who...?" she asked in a small voice.

"Dear, he... a man who is bound to Hell. He held you for a second. It took him one tiny look at you to make him know for sure that he didn't want you to live in such a place of fear and pain. The Devil seems to be not such a bad guy the world makes him out to be. He loved a little baby girl enough to let her go. And give that little blessing to a man who was the luckiest man alive. And Dear, I-" he cut off as his body went rigid, his eyes wide and unseeing. After a moment, he blinked and looked down at her. "You need to go." he said bluntly. "Quickly. To the hospital, Ryan is there."

"What!" Isla squeaked, jumping out of her own shock. "What happened to him!"

"I don't know. But you must go. And Isla...!" he called before she reached the door. "Tell _no_ _one_ of what you are. Your mother will use you. And Ryan's father will target you, causing the boy to get hurt. And Ryan... well, we'll get to that later, but he cannot know what you are. Now go!" she stood for a moment, then nodded as she turned and pulled the heavy door open.

Isla walked into the hospital lobby and walked carefully up to the front desk where a man sat behind it, and greeted her with an encouraging smile as he noticed her hesitant approach. "Can I help you, young lady?" he asked lightly.

"My friend's here." she said hesitantly. She _hated_ hospitals. Ever since she had woken up in one five years ago to hear of her father and sister's deaths, she hated being even near them.

"What's your friends' name?" he asked patiently.

"Oh. Sorry." she said distractedly. "Ryan Cantor." the man turned to the side and typed with a practiced hand into the computer.

"Cantor... Cantor... Ah. Ryan Cantor, room 313. That's upstairs and down the hall to the right with a big sign that says 'ER.' The elevators are over there. Third floor." he said, pointing to a set of gray elevator doors in the wall to the left. She nodded her thanks and walked to the elevator and stepped into the small empty box. She stepped lightly to the side when it paused on the second floor, and the doors slid open to reveal two people in doctor uniforms as they stepped inside, deep in conversation.

"Something's going on, I know it is. Tucker, that boy needs help, and I can't do anything without proof. If I had proof, I could assign him a guardian under emergency claims, but I have none. Plus, I don't think I can get his mother out. He's underage, I can do it to protect him, but his mother can't get out unless they get divorced. That man will never sign those forms. Or she could run off. But in that case, she would cut all authority ties to her son." the woman was saying quickly to the man who walked beside her. Isla's eyes grew wide. She stared over at the woman.

"Excuse me." she said quietly. The woman turned an irritated eye on her. Isla ignored it. "By any chance... you don't mean Ryan, do you...?" the woman's expression changed.

"You're one of his friends, then?" she asked without specifically answering. Isla nodded. The woman seemed to think for a moment; that or she was glaring at Isla. "What is your opinion of his father?" she finally asked. Isla looked away.

"He's... I don't know, he's creepy." Isla said vaguely. The woman shot the man beside her a look.

"Don't lie." the woman said sharply. "You know something, don't you?" By now, they had stepped into the hall and were walking down the long hallway labeled ER.

"I can't. Ryan asked me not to-"

"I'm trying to _help_ him. Sweetie, if you know something that could help get him out, I need to know."

"He's... he's _horrible."_ Isla said, despite her mind's protesting. "He's beaten him all his life, but Ryan didn't want me calling someone to get him out because he's already almost eighteen, he said he didn't want _them_ involved." she said the word as if saying 'them' explained it.

"The boy's too prideful for his own sake." the man spoke for the first time in a tone that was clearly too used to speaking in a cheerful voice.

"Visitor." Dr. Szala said as she swung the door of room 313 open. Isla followed her in and looked around, relieved to find Ryan's parents not there. She walked hesitantly over to where Ryan lie. He stared at her, but didn't speak.

"Ryan..." she breathed, glad to see no blood. She blinked in surprise when he picked up a hand and flexed his fingers in greeting. "Why aren't you talking...?" she said halfheartedly, not particularly thinking she wanted to know the answer. Carefully, as if testing if it would hurt, he peeled his lips apart, showing her the wiring holding his teeth together. Isla's hand flew up to her mouth to block the squeak of alarm that had already escaped. He gave a small smile as if he'd expected the reaction as he picked up a pen and began writing on a stack of paper she hadn't noticed was sitting on his lap.

 _ **What's wrong, Izie? Don't say me. There's something else, isn't there? And don't say nothing either.**_ She shook her head when she finished reading what he'd turned towards her.

"I can't tell you. Please trust that." she mumbled, hugging her arms close to her.

 _ **Why? Is it your mother? She isn't mad at you again, is she?**_ he flicked the paper back towards her.

"No, it's not that, it's..." she looked away." Someone else." she finished. She stole a glance at him and hated herself for the disguised hurt she saw in his expression. She jumped when he stiffened his entire body as he clutched his hands over his chest, his eyes screwed shut. "Ryan?" Isla yelped, startled. She protested when Dr. Szala pushed her back as she bent over him.

"Ryan, what is it, does something hurt?" she demanded quickly as she held his hands from clawing at his shirt. "Tucker! Give me that scalpel." she snapped over her shoulder. The other doctor walked quickly over to a tray, picked up the blade and handed it to the woman's expectant hand.

"Burn." Ryan managed in a broken voice through his teeth.

"Don't talk." she scolded as she picked up his shirt collar and began to trail the knife through the thin fabric. She pushed it lightly aside to reveal a tattoo along his chest that Isla had never seen before. Ryan gave a cry of pain when she began searching his skin for burn marks as she trailed her fingers over it. "Is it this?" she asked promptly, lightly touching the mark. He gave a strained nod. Dr. Szala turned to the bedside table where a rag sat in a bowl of water that she'd used earlier to help with a fever. She picked it up, rung some of the cold water out, and dabbed it lightly to the mark. She stopped when he gave a loud cry of pain.

"What's wrong with him!" Isla yelled, managing to voice her mind's screaming question.

"Tucker, get her out of here _now!"_ Dr. Szala ordered as she jabbed a needle into Ryan's arm and pushed the plunger down. Instantly, his eyes began to dull, and his body slowly relaxed. Too startled to argue, Isla let the man lead her by the elbow from the room.

"Are you all right?" he asked calmly as he touched two fingers to her wrist. She nodded, looking down. "Come on, I'll take you to the lobby." he propelled her forward by the elbow as he started down the hall.

By the time they'd gotten into the elevator, she had begun to calm down. "Will he be all right?" she asked finally. He glanced down at her as she spoke, and nodded.

"He will. I'm not sure what happened, but Dr. Szala's very good at what she does." he assured her. The elevator door slid open on the second floor and Isla had to hold back a shriek when Ryan's father was revealed, rubbing his forehead. He glowered down at her as she came into view. Then he saw the doctor and instantly plastered worry on his face.

"Do you know where my son is, Isla?" she bit back a retort at the sound of her name.

"Don't act like you care." she hissed, her body tensing. He blinked at her, a crooked smile slithered across his face.

"I beg your pardon? Of course I care, how could I not?" he asked, a small quirk in his jaw showed he hated saying that.

"Dr. Szala has asked that all visitors remain in the lobby until further notice." Dr. Tucker broke in.

"Then I'd be _glad_ to escort young Isla the rest of the way if you'd like to get back." his smile widened as he spoke. Isla shivered when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as if they were friends.

"I have business in the lobby regardless. I will escort you both." he replied as the doors slid open and they stepped out. Isla tried to speed up her pace to pull from him, but his fingers dug into her shoulder, making her cringe. Dr. Tucker paused in the entryway to the lobby. "Wait a moment, Kid, I need a word with you." he said, calling her back as she reluctantly walked past. She breathed a sigh of relief as she walked back over to him. He touched a hand to her forehead when she came within reach, then touched her wrist to check her pulse. He pursed his lips and began to walk away, indicating she follow.

He closed the door to a room numbered 169 and leaned against it. "I hope you didn't really believe I was going to leave you alone with him." he said as he turned to face her.

"For a minute I did." Isla said shyly.

 _"Mason Tucker, answer me, where the-"_

"Krystan, no swearing, please, we're both around children." Dr. Tucker said calmly into a walkie-talkie he had picked off of his lab coat collar as Dr. Szala's irritated voice crackled from it.

 _"Where the_ hell _are you!"_ she said pointedly, ignoring him.

"A room you won't go near," he answered. "I'll go to you, where are you? By the way, I'm bringing the Kid back; Kid Number Two's father surprised us in the elevator."

"How's Ryan?" Isla demanded.

"Kid Number One's asking how Kid Number Two is." the man added on with a small smile.

 _"Done screaming if that's what you're asking. He's alive. Just get back here."_ she answered, hardly answering the question. Despite the finality she'd had in her tone, she spoke again a few seconds later as if it were an afterthought. _"Mason, why exactly did you bring her to that room? You could have just brought her back here."_

"Because I work with you. I didn't want to risk if he followed back to Kid Number Two's room. I work with you, and you're his doctor. If he followed me, he'd find you, and if he found you, he'd find Kid Number Two. But you'd never come anywhere near this room. So he wouldn't even see you in the halls if he did follow." he explained. It took her a very long moment to respond.

 _"Just get back here."_ she finally said tersely.

"Will do." he responded, pushing off from the table he'd been leaning on.

"What's wrong with this room?" Isla finally asked, confused. The doctor didn't look at her as he took a deep breath.

"This room... Something happened to her years ago. It's not really my place to say. If you want to know, ask her. It's her choice to tell you or not." he sounded dismissive. Isla followed him from the room, trying to think of what kind of thing could have happened.

They walked through a maze of halls without much conversation. He opened the door to Ryan's room after a light knock of warning. "Eat it anyway. I never said I was asking." Dr. Szala was saying, looking up as the door opened.

"What's going on?" Isla asked, looking at Ryan who had a small bowl of soup on a tray in his lap. He sat up with his arms folded stubbornly over his chest as he switched the paper he was holding towards Isla.

 _ **I'm not hungry for the hundredth time.**_ Isla glared at him. She then walked across the room to him, picking up what looked like an odd pair of tweezers. She pointed it at him threateningly.

"Suck it up and eat." she warned. He only looked as if he wanted to laugh. Once again, he held up the paper. "Don't make me force you." she growled, earning an amused shake of the head. She'd expected that answer. Carefully, she picked up the bowl and placed it on the bedside table to avoid spilling it. Then violently forced his head to tilt back. She forced the tweezers between his lips that he'd squeezed tightly shut in defiance. Pulling the tweezers apart made his lips part as well.

"Iz..." he protested through his teeth. She ignored him and picked up the spoon and poured the red-orange liquid into his mouth, then allowed him to close his mouth. He stared at her, not moving.

"Swallow." she growled as she placed one hand over his mouth and the other brandished his arm with the tweezers. Obediently, he finally swallowed. She grinned triumphantly and stepped back, releasing him. "Hey, Dr. Szala...?" Isla asked, looking over to the woman who had stopped paying attention to her.

"What!" she snapped, irritated from being interrupted in the middle of her conversation with Dr. Tucker.

"What happened in that room we were in earlier...?" Isla asked, ignoring the angered response. Dr. Szala stiffened, and turned an icy glare slowly to Dr. Tucker.

"Why. Is the child. Asking me about that room?" she demanded, pulling a sedation needle out of her pocket and pointing it threateningly at him. He raised his hands in surrender.

"I didn't say anything, Krystan, put the needle down. She was just curious over why you won't go there. So she asked. But I told her to ask you." he said, pushing her armed hand away from him lightly. Slowly, she lowered the needle, and then turned to face Isla again.

"Nothing needing to concern you. Do _not_ ask me again." she said darkly. More confused than ever, Isla nodded. A beeping sound erupted from an intercom in the ceiling.

"Dr. Szala, you're needed in room 221. Dr. Szala, you're needed in room 221." a man said calmly, then clicked off. The woman stood up straight.

"Forgot about that. I'll be back. Tucker, follow me please. Kids, keep the door locked, I have a key." she said as she quickly swept out.

An empty bowl sat on the table about twenty minutes later, and Isla watched Ryan's steady breathing as his head rested back on a pillow with his eyes closed. "Hey, Ryan?" Isla asked, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he asked without moving.

"Why Dance...?" she asked. He looked at her then through slightly opened eyes. He looked as if he wasn't entirely surprised by the question. He picked up his pen and paper.

 _ **What do you mean 'why Dance?'**_ he turned towards her, a question in his eyes.

"Why... of all things, why do you love Dance so much?" she elaborated. He looked thoughtful for a long moment, then began writing again. He took a while this time, but when he had finished, he handed her the paper with his neat handwriting on it.

 _ **Because... it's something my father hates... He says dancing is a disgraceful thing for a man to do. It's like my own way to rebel. I may be his son, but that doesn't mean he can control my life. Dancing is my escape from everything... my father... the scars... the pain... from the world. When I'm dancing... I get lost in the music... the world falls away. The ground disappears. My mind blanks... It's how I've survived... it's why when I was growing up, a little kid who couldn't understand why his father beat him every night and day, I turned to it. To forget. To get so lost in the music that no pain or fear that I had could find or reach me. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here now if I didn't. That's why. It's my way to rebel against the cage my father's kept me locked up in all my life.**_ Isla looked up at him when she'd read the paper multiple times. Once again, he lay with his head back and his eyes closed. As if he felt her gaze on him, his eyes opened to slits, looking back as a small, calm smile crossed his lips.

"I would have said it. But it wouldn't have sounded how I wanted with my teeth stuck together." he said as best he could. Isla couldn't help but laugh at how he sounded. Every time he tried to make the sound of an 's,' it would sound like he were saying it with a 'th.' "Izie...?" he asked lightly, waiting for her to calm down. She looked at him questioningly when he stretched out his arms. She stepped off the stool she'd been seated on and walked silently over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, giving a yelp of protest when he dragged her from the floor and seated her beside him on the bed.

"You could have just asked." she complained, resting her head on his shoulder. He picked up the pen and scribbled his answer.

 _ **You would have complained.**_ She glowered at him, earning a chuckle. She watched him rest his head back again, his breathing slow, and let herself relax. Without meaning to, she drifted off into thought.

She began to think about what her father had said. Was her father _really_ the Devil? It couldn't be, she didn't even understand how he existed. There was never any proof of such a creature. And why her? She could have finally been happy when Ryan turned 18. What if she didn't want to be part of a mythical world? She couldn't understand what any of it had to do with her. What would happen to her now? Would she have to go live in a musty, dark hole with a man she didn't even know now? She hoped not. And why did this all tie back to her mother? Nothing was making sense.

She jumped badly when Ryan poked her arm. He stared at her with alarm and concern at her reaction. "Sorry..." she stammered, trying to calm herself. Instantly, he scribbled something on the paper and showed it to her.

 _ **What's wrong?**_ was scratched across the top of the paper. She looked down, shaking her head. After a moment, he slipped a paper onto her lap. _ **Don't lie, Izie. What's wrong? You can tell me anything, you know that.**_

"I can't." she mumbled, looking away. He took the paper back, and after a moment, slipped it back into her view.

 _ **Did you promise?**_ was written carefully, as if he had written it slowly. She looked up at him, having a mental war with herself, to find him staring calmly back. She hadn't actually _promised_ not to tell anyone, just told not to. And when did she ever start doing what someone told her to? She felt her nails dig into her palms from her own grip as she took a deep breath.

"Ryan, I... I have something to tell you. But you have to promise not to say anything until the end."


	10. Chapter 9

$45.36

 **Chapter 9**

Ryan stared at her, wide eyed. Was this why she'd refused to look at him when she'd left his house? If her father was supposedly the Devil, then that made her... After a long moment, he gave a sudden movement. Without warning, he drew his shirt over his head. Isla squeaked and covered her eyes. "It's not like you haven't seen a guy before." he managed through his teeth. She kept her hands over her eyes, ignoring him. He sighed softly. "You're such a girl at the worst of times. Izie, look at me." he breathed, gently drawing her hands away. Finally, she looked up at him, trying to hold her gaze to his eyes. She relented and let her eyes travel to the mark on his chest. It was odd, it looked kind of like a tattoo, but it somehow looked like it... moved. Not creepily like it was a living thing in his skin, but calmly. Every intake of breath he took it seemed to sway as a wave would as it rolled to the shore, and retreated as the moon pulled it away.

"When did you... get this...?" she finally voiced.

"I didn't. It just... showed up." he said calmly. "I had an odd dream. I don't really remember. But I remember a warning: 'the child of the Cursed One is near.'" he scanned her expression, waiting for his words to sink in. They didn't. "I think that may mean you, Izie." he gave in, sounding pained. Her eyes widened at that.

"You mean _I_ did this to you?" she stammered, her mind repeating her father telling her of a power inside her. He stared at her sympathetically, but didn't respond. "It's my fault. All of it... Your father beats you because of me, you're in danger because of me, and now you're basically damned to Hell because of me! Ryan, I-"

"Isla Witte, shut up!" he spat, cutting her off as she startled. "I don't give a damn where I go, or what happens to me." he seemed to be having trouble with his mouth as he spoke. "My father's beaten me all my life, I'm used to it. But I'd rather he hit me every day than kill you. If you're from Hell and are not the worst person on Earth, then Hell can't be that bad. I don't care. So shut up, and don't _ever_ repeat that. Got it!" he demanded fiercely, his shoulders were back and his hands in tight fists. He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face in his shoulder, forgetting momentarily that he was shirtless. And then the door that had been apparently picked unlocked slammed open.

"Isla Witte what! Do you think you are doing!" He felt Isla freeze at her mother's angered voice. Ryan gave a groan of pain as his father yanked him away from her by the hair. Isla looked panicked at her mother.

"Mum! Mum, it's not what it looks like!" she yelped.

"Not what it looks like? You're in bed with a shirtless idiot behind a locked door and it's not what it looks like?" her mother fumed. She froze when she saw the mark on Ryan's chest. Then she strode stiffly across the room and grabbed Isla's ear between her fingers. "You." she hissed harshly, "Are grounded. And we're going home." Syren began to pull the resisting girl to her feet.

"Father! Let go!" Ryan struggled, trying to pull away from him.

"You're going home." the man growled in his ear. "And I will beat the _life_ out of you." Ryan stiffened, knowing he meant that threat down to every last detail. He twisted painfully and landed a blow to his father's stomach, then let his knee follow the same path. He swung again, not caring when he felt a stab of pain in his hand as his fingers broke. He cried out when his father balled a fist and struck his jaw. He regained his senses when his father angrily secured his hands around his son's neck.

"Father..." he protested, clawing at the hands that had begun to squeeze. He felt the thin, inadequate streams of air burn down his throat and slowly thin to nothing as his father began blocking his airway. "Fa..." he gasped, his struggles getting slow and weak. His body was sluggish to respond to his racing mind. He locked his eyes on his father's, watching as the red around his eyes began to turn black and cloud his sight. He was vaguely aware of Isla crying somewhere far away, but all he could seem to focus on was sleep. He felt exhausted. All he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep. His weak attempts at freedom stilled as his arms dropped to his side and his shoulders began to relax. Finally, his eyes faded into the darkness as he went limp.

Isla screamed as Ryan's body fell to the bed limply.

"What the God damn _hell_ are you doing!" Dr. Szala's voice yelled as she yanked Isla from her mother's restraining grip. "Get the hell out!" she stabbed a small button on the wall that gave off a small buzzing noise. It wasn't long before they heard footsteps pounding down the hall. Three men ran into the room, one took hold of Syren, one restrained Ryan's father, and the third pulled Isla's arms behind her back. She struggled with a cry of protest when he picked her up. She looked up, wide-eyed when a hand caught the wrist of the security guard.

"Let her go. She's fine." Dr. Tucker ordered, making sure the other two were gone before he looked at the man restraining Isla. He placed her back on her feet and left to help hold down Ryan's thrashing father as he got dragged down the hall. Isla watched, too stunned to do anything as Dr. Tucker helped Dr. Szala lie Ryan on his back. Dr. Szala pressed her ear to his chest. After a moment, she clenched her jaw and began chest compressions. She counted under her breath until she pulled away to tilt his head back. She pinched his nose closed and began forcing air into his lungs.

"Come on..." she muttered as she pulled away to continue the chest compressions." Come back Ryan, Sweetie..." Dr. Tucker pushed her aside when her movements got slower as her arms got tired and took up where she'd stopped. Isla stared as he pinched Ryan's nose and, without any hesitation, sealed his lips around the boys and began to breathe a steady stream of air into him. He pulled away just as Ryan gave a feeble, weak cough.

"Welcome back, Kid." he smiled lightly when Ryan groaned, slowly opening his eyes.

"What happened..." Ryan's voice slurred slightly; then he seemed to remember. "Father..." he said through a groan of pain. Dr. Tucker carefully placed a clear mask over his mouth and nose. After a moment, Ryan felt air pushing painfully down his throat.

"Quit talking!" Dr. Szala spat, striding forward with a roll of bandage. Gingerly, she lifted his hand and began to carefully wrap the injured fingers.

Everything hurt. His throat, lungs and head burned with each breath he took in, and felt like a thousand blades slicing his neck with each exhale. He felt odd. As if he were falling, but he could feel the bed he lie on. The room seemed to curve around him, and stretch. He felt sick, but didn't want to vomit for he knew of the pain it would cause to his throat. He felt as if a 50-pound weight had been dropped on his chest from a great height. "I was gone...?" he mumbled, his own voice sounding sluggish.

"I said don't talk!" Dr. Szala snapped, earning a cry of pain as she pressed two fingers lightly to his neck. "Tucker? Morphine?" she asked, holding out an expectant hand. He handed her an IV needle that she carefully inserted into his arm. After a few seconds, the pain faded to a numb pinch-like feeling, and he slowly relaxed. Eventually, his eyes began to drift closed.

 _ **How long was I asleep?**_ Ryan held up the paper as Dr. Szala walked into the room, looking exhausted. She looked at him, then back at the paper she'd been filling out.

"So you're finally awake. About three days." she said stoutly. He blinked, then scribbled on the paper again.

 _ **Have you slept...? You look horrible.**_ she glared at him when she'd read it.

"Is that something you enjoy doing? It's wrong to tell a woman she looks horrible." she grumbled, putting the clipboard down as she sat in a chair.

 _ **You didn't answer my question.**_ he turned the paper to her again. She sighed loudly.

"Yes, I've slept. Happy? I've slept. Hardly. If you want to call that sleep." she said as she folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs. She jumped, which was startling for a doctor to do, as the door swung open and Dr. Tucker strode in. He stopped when he saw Dr. Szala sitting there. He sighed with a tiny smile as he folded his arms.

"I thought I told you to get some rest?" he inquired with one eyebrow raised at her.

"Couldn't." she snapped, turning away from him. Ryan rolled his eyes and scribbled on the paper.

 _ **If I can deal with my father for 17 years, you can manage to sleep after three days, Doctor. Go to bed.**_ She glared darkly at him then and got to her feet, pulling a needle from her pocket. Dr. Tucker grabbed her arm before she could reach him and pulled her back.

"Krystan, don't. You haven't slept and you've no idea what you're doing. Calm down. Give me that." he said as he plucked the needle from her hand. "I think you could use some sleep, don't you?" she turned on him then.

"Don't. You. Dare." she spat angrily. "I swear I'll-" she cringed with a drowsy protest as he plunged the sedatives into her arm. After a moment, she fell to the floor limply. Dr. Tucker looked down at her with a thoughtful look.

"I meant to catch her, I swear." he said when he saw the look he earned from Ryan. He knelt to the floor and carefully picked her up. "Be back in a moment." he said, walking out as she curled up like a child would in the arms of a parent. He returned after a few minutes empty-armed. "Your girlfriend opted to keep her company. No visitors for you today." Ryan gave a slightly painful laugh as he scribbled onto a fresh sheet of paper.

 _ **She's not my girlfriend. Just... a close friend.**_ he turned the paper.

"Oops. Sorry, I just assumed." Dr. Tucker apologized, chuckling. Ryan shook his head to indicate he didn't mind.

 _ **Can I stand up yet? It's been driving me mad sitting around like this, I'm not good at not moving for long periods of time.**_ The doctor pursed his lips at that.

"Not today, Kid. Your body is very weak right now. It needs time to build the strength to stand again. You can do a couple exercises if it would help." he offered calmly. Ryan nodded enthusiastically.


	11. Chapter 10

$60.26

 **Chapter 10**

Isla sat in the dim room, getting a bit concerned over Dr. Szala. She seemed to be having a horrible nightmare. Her head turned a number of times, and her eyebrows creased constantly. And occasionally she'd mumble a name. Isla jumped when the sleeping form thrashed, then stilled. Not long after, the movements carried on. "No... no... wake up..." Dr. Szala mumbled. Isla knew she ought to wake the poor woman up, but felt she would only traumatize her. She couldn't bring herself to move. "Wake up..." Though her voice was a monotone low that came with sleep, Isla could hear the fear that was hidden behind it. "Don't hurt... No... Micheal... Micheal...! No!" Dr. Szala screamed as she jolted into a sitting position. Isla leaped to her feet and ran over to the doctor. The woman's eyes were wide and blind from the dream.

"Hey!" Isla shrieked, shaking the doctor's shoulders. Dr. Szala blinked awake, looking around wildly. "It was just a dream, are you okay?" Isla demanded, startled. The doctor blinked at her, confused for a moment.

"H...How did you get in here...?" she stammered, trying to steady her mind.

"Dr. Tucker let me in 'cause you were fidgeting, so he wanted someone to make sure you didn't freak out, which you kind of already did..." Isla trailed off at the glare the doctor was giving her.

"Get. Out." she hissed. Isla blinked, startled.

"Who's Micheal...?" she asked suddenly. The doctor froze and turned her gaze slowly to Isla.

"How..." she gasped. Isla nearly screamed when the doctor grabbed her arm and pulled her close, her eyes digging harshly into Isla's. "How do you know that name." she demanded angrily, her grip tightening to Isla's arm.

"Y...you kept mumbling it in your sleep...!" Isla gasped painfully. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to pry, you were just so freaked out, I was-"

"Be quiet." the woman groaned, releasing the girls arm to rub her temples. After a long moment, she began to steady her breathing, though her hands shook considerably. "Micheal... He was... He was my son... he had cancer... he was only seven... and they told him... that he was finally getting better... He was recovering... I told him... he could have anything he wanted... he could have asked for the moon and I would have found some way to give it to him... But of all things... the only thing he wanted... was a toy truck... I promised him I'd get him it... So I left... I left him... If I had stayed with him, he would have had a better chance of being here..." her voice grew worse as she spoke, breaking on the last word. She paused, trying unsuccessfully to calm herself. Her eyes were glazed over, and she stared at her hands in disgust. "When I came back... I heard him calling me... yelling 'Mommy! Mommy!' over and over... He sounded so scared... So I ran... down the hall... I ran as fast as I could... But I hadn't been quick enough... I got there... and the window was open... and a man stood there... he was covered in mud... and his face and even his hair color was totally covered... I couldn't see what he looked like...

"When I got there... He had put the gun to his forehead... Micheal stared at me... begging for me to help him... pleading with me to save him... I tried to stop the man... Tried talking him out of it... begging... I tried... I knew he was going to shoot... So I moved... I ran... I tried to get there in time... Push the gun away... push Micheal away... Take the hit... Anything... I would have done anything... But I was too late... I was too late... If I had only moved faster... earlier... That little boys life was cut short because I wasn't fast enough..." she trailed off as she placed her head in her hands. Isla didn't speak. She didn't know what to do, or say. Finally, she carefully reached out to place her hand on the doctor's shoulder.

They both jumped when the door slammed open. "Telling that old sob story, are you?" Victor challenged as he walked in, closing the door and locking it. "Isla, Dearie, I'd like a little chat with you. But I'm afraid we can't talk here. Not with all these doctors around. You're uncomfortable here, aren't you? Why don't we go somewhere more suitable, hmm?" he continued with a smile. Dr. Szala jumped to her feet and stepped in front of Isla.

"How did you get in here," she spat, her voice now clear and enraged. "security should have made sure you didn't come anywhere near here. You're not going anywhere with anyone. I'll make sure you're locked up behind bars for trespassing and endangering the lives of patients."

"How cute, Doctor." he laughed, stepping slowly forward. "So many times you've try to play the hero. But you're not. You were never meant to be the hero. I'm taking the girl. And I'd much appreciate it if you were a good girl and didn't put up a fight. You see, I'm very sore from where all your little 'security' guards tried to keep me back. I'll have to admit, they were a bit much for my strength. So I sadly had to use a bit of the power I got from the last foré. That power is beginning to run out. Five years, it's been, yes? Since I found him. It's a shame I had to kill him in front of you to get it. It's quite the coincidence that it's you who shows up to protect the new foré, don't you think? After you failed to protect the boy, do you really think you'll succeed in protecting this one? Hmm, Krystan?"

"What..." Isla gasped, "You... you _knew...?"_ The doctor didn't look at her, but her stiff posture gave away her unease.

"Of course she knew!" Ryan's father said a bit too cheerfully. "Why else would she tell you of her dead kid when she hardly knows your name? She knows what you are. And she knew her son had the power too. But even the power of the foré will drain over time. Good thing it gets given to all of you monsters. All you have to do is find another new one and vualá! You're as powerful as a God!"

"You're the one... You're the one who...!" Dr. Szala choked, her hands starting to quiver.

"That's right, Dearie. I needed his power. He was going to die anyway, he was sitting in that hospital room on the first floor. Waiting to die. He housed an incredibly strong power inside of him. A power I needed. And now there is another. One who can refill the power that has drained over the years." he said with a sinister grin crossing his face.

"He was recovering!" the doctor snapped, her body shaking with anger. "I knew about that power, I knew it from the moment he was born! But he was still a child! I don't care what power anyone has! You. Won't. Come. Near. Her." she hissed, stepping forward to meet him.

"Ah, but you left him alone. Poor kid was yelling for a whole minute before you got there. And even then you stood there like a kicked puppy." he hissed at her.

"You'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you!" she demanded, shoving a needle into his arm. She smiled triumphantly when he looked mildly surprised. She stared, wide-eyed, when he simply looked down at the needle, and pulled it from his arm.

"A bold move. But not enough." he chuckled, stabbing the needle into the doctors neck. Blood trickled from the wound quickly, the doctor drew a single, choking breath as she began to slip to the floor. The man watched her fall with an evil smile, then turned his attention back to Isla. "Now, little girl. Your mother's been worried about you. Why don't you come with me and I'll take you to her." he cooed as he closed the gap between them. Isla ducked under his arm and ran, cutting off with a muffled cry as he grabbed her arm and clamped his hand around her mouth. "Now, now. No need to struggle. You'll only hurt yourself." he said soothingly in her ear. She thrashed, trying to pull away, only to give a stifled yell of pain when he gripped her arm hard; she felt a stabbing pain as he sprained her wrist.

"Dr. Sza-" Isla was cut off as she broke free momentarily to only be quieted again. She gave a cry of pain as he struck her harshly on the back of the head. Trying to stop him from knocking her out, Isla tried to twist in his arms to block him from getting reach. But he struck her again before she could fully turn, and her struggling ceased as everything darkened, and then faded to black.

Isla woke up as the car pulled into her driveway. Confused, she looked around. And nearly screamed when Ryan's father yanked the door open and dragged her out. She struggled, kicking at him, trying to pull from his grasp. "No!" she screamed, remembering all too clearly what happened. She started to panic as he shoved the front door open and carried the thrashing girl inside. "You killed her! You _killed_ her!" she accused as he threw her to the floor in anger and slammed the door.

"Isla, do quit your screaming, before you attract attention." Syren sighed, catching Isla's attention for the first time from her perch on the arm of the couch.

"Mum..." she gasped, her eyes widening. "W...where's Leon..." she demanded, glancing around. "What did you do to him. Where is my brother!" she picked herself off the floor to glare fiercely at the woman who she'd thought to love her all her life.

"If you don't shut up, you'll wake him." Syren said coldly. Isla tensed. Has she truly kept Leon in the dark about this...?

"Why did you kill her...?" Isla whispered, willing her eyes not to let the water spill.

"Who? That pathetic doctor? Oh please, it's not like she was all that special. But she needed to be sacrificed. She has been in my way. Five years ago she stood in the way, and here she still stands. It's a shame it had to be done. I'm sorry, Isla. I know you liked her. But it had to be done. It just so happened you were in the same room." her mother said as she got to her feet, sounding purposefully soothing. Her voice hardened significantly when she spoke again. "But don't worry. You'll see her again rather soon." she crossed the room, petting Isla's hair as she gave a fake smile.

"Why... Why are you doing this, what do you get out of it, what's the point! Clearly I mean nothing to you, I never did, but _why!_ " Isla snapped, cursing inwardly as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"He gets the initial power of the foré." Syren said, gesturing towards Victor. "But I get all the glory that comes from it. You see, he is my servant. That power works in a different way. The one who kills the host of the foré absorbs a substantial amount of power. But the one who he sees as higher up than him, in this case me, as he works for me, gains the power tenfold. You see, he is like the middle man. If I were the one to kill the boy, I would have gotten pathetic power. But I had him do it. So that we both got something out of it. It's just I got the better deal." her mother giggled. "You see, I let you live this long. Because the older the victim, the longer the power has had time to... for lack of a better word, build. The little boy was destined to die. He had cancer. They were incorrect in saying he was recovering. I saved his mother the pain of losing him later on. She would have had a stronger bond had he grown up more. So I had to have him killed. For all you would have known, I would have let you live until I were ninety and then killed you. Because the power would have lengthened my life. But your blasted father had to come in and rat me out." she hissed angrily.

"You knew...?" Isla felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Sadness quickly got replaced by anger. "You _knew_ he was alive?" she nearly screamed. "All these years you let me believe he was dead!"

"Isla, do shut up, your idiotic father was trying to get you to understand that he was alive for five years. But you were blind to it. I suppose that is partially my fault. But no matter. You won't be seeing him again. Or anyone, I might add."

"The drawings..." Isla gasped, feeling incredibly stupid.

"I think it's time for you to go to your room, Isla. There's a lot of... preparation in order. And don't even try to escape, the door will be locked, and the window... well, we'll just settle with the fact that there is no window anymore." Syren smiled, nodding to Victor. He picked Isla, who gave a cry of protest, off the floor and walked down the hall. He threw her into her room, instantly she scrambled to her feet and threw herself at him, only to slam into the door as he pulled it closed and locked it. She scrabbled for the doorknob, startled when she realized that there was no doorknob on the inside. Fighting back panic, she spun, looking to where the window normally was. To find only a plain wall. She pounded with both fists on the wall where the window used to be, testing if it were just fake. But she only struck wall.

Isla paced for a while, occasionally yelling out at her mother, or Victor, or her father, hoping that by some miracle he'd appear. "Sissy...?" she heard a muffled voice through the door. Isla ran to the door, kneeling to the crack between the door and the floor.

"Leon?" Isla demanded, feeling anxious.

"Why are you loud...?" he sounded drowsy, as if he'd just woken up.

"Leon, listen to me, you have to get away!" Isla ordered, praying that he'd get out.

"Why...?" he asked. Isla tried to listen hard, listening for any footsteps, or voices. She screamed in frustration when she heard her mothers light footsteps begin walking down the hall.

"Leon, get away from that door right now!" Syren ordered, her shoes clacking loudly as she tapped her toe.

"No! Leon, listen to me! Get out, run away, please, just get away from her! She's like the bad guy in all your stories! Leon, if you don't run she'll hurt you! Please, Leon, you have to get out!" Isla nearly begged, cutting off with a scream as the door was ripped open and her mother glowered down at her. She protested as her mother dragged her to her feet.

"Love, I would love it if you didn't make your brother upset. You know he doesn't like his sister scaring him. Now it's time you went to bed. Big day tomorrow." he mother sneered as she slammed her daughter to the ground. Isla gave a cry of pain when her head struck the cold, un-carpeted floor. Her mother turned and walked away as Victor strode in and kicked her hard, knocking her out almost instantly.


	12. Chapter 11

$43.10

 **Chapter 11**

Ryan woke with an odd feeling. Looking around, he groaned when his eyes rested on his father. "What do you want now." he growled, sitting up stiffly.

"I figured you'd want this." he said too cheerfully as he tossed something at Ryan. He caught it before it hit him. He stared at the necklace for a second, confused.

"This is Mothers." he said hesitantly. He looked up when his father laughed.

"Was, Boy." Victor corrected with a sneer. Ryan raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you-" Ryan stared, wide-eyed, as he cut off. "What did you do." he whispered slowly. Instantly, ignoring his legs protesting, he jumped up and launched himself at the bigger man. Clinging angrily onto the collar of his father's shirt hard enough to feel the charm of the necklace digging into his palm. "What have you done!" His father looked amused.

"It's not like she ever cared about you. She helped you once, Boy. You can't truly tell me you were actually attached to her." he laughed. Ryan's resolve ran out at he swung a fist at his father's cheek. Ryan groaned in a mix of anger and pain when his father yanked his hair. "Watch it, Boy." he growled as he threw him back against the bed. His father straightened up innocently as the door swung open.

"Kid! What do you think you're doing!" Dr. Tucker demanded, pulling Ryan to his feet. Ryan struggled to get to his father.

"You killed her! Let go of me! Murderer!" he yelled, jerking in an attempt to pull free. Though thin, the doctor was surprisingly strong as he managed to drag him from the room.

"Get a hold of yourself, Kid! Snap out of it! Now what happened, I _told you_ you couldn't stand!" Dr. Tucker scolded, now supporting most of Ryan's weight as they stumbled into another room.

"He killed her..." Ryan mumbled, starting to shiver as he stared blankly down at the necklace with a single silver cross pendant hanging from the chain.

"Who?" the doctor asked, shocked. He sat beside the boy and placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"My mother... he killed Mother...!" Ryan buried his his head in his hands when his voice broke. Dr. Tucker stared at him for a long moment.

"Are you sure, Kid...? Maybe he was just trying to upset you." he offered halfheartedly. Ryan shook his head.

"Father doesn't lie to make me upset. He knows what to do to upset me. When he wants to upset me, he'll _do_ something to upset me. There's no need for him to lie." Ryan said, staring at the floor. The doctor seemed to not know quite what to say as he carefully pat the boys shoulder.

"Where's Dr. Szala?" Ryan managed, trying to change the subject. He felt Dr. Tucker tense beside him.

"She's... busy." he said, clearly lying. "I'm going to get Mr. Cantor out of my lab." he said dismissively and left.

Isla stood, confused, on a dimly lit stone pathway that led down until the path spiraled out of sight. Choosing not to walk deeper into the gloom, she began the trek uphill, hoping it would lead to somewhere familiar. Not knowing how long it'd been, her feet began to hurt. Seeing no end in sight, Isla decided to sit and take a break. She shivered as she sat on the cold pathway. She stared around, wondering where she was, and trying to remember how she'd gotten there. After a few long moments, she found herself beginning to nod off. "I wouldn't sleep here, Kóri." Isla jumped at the unexpected voice. Startled, she stared around, finding a man standing below her on the path. Instantly, Isla scrabbled to her feet.

"Who are you?" she demanded, hearing her voice echo throughout the cavern. "And where am I?" he held up a hand to silence her. He stood tall in dark clothing that blended into the darkness. His black hair hung just covering his ears, and bangs that straggled to shade his eyes. They were off-putting, yet somehow seemed to fit him. They were a deep red, with hints of black and gold throughout.

"There is no escape from this Domain, but that need not concern you. So I'd advise you against walking up this slope until you exhaust yourself, because there is no end." As opposed to her voice, his did not echo, but sounded as if they were in a wide, sun-lit field. She blinked, only more confused. "I see you've gotten yourself in a bit of trouble up there." he said, changing the subject.

" _Please_ tell me I'm not in Hell." Isla blurted, alarmed. "I'm _dead?_ I don't even remember- did that kick _kill_ me?" she tensed as she traveled her gaze over him. "Are you... You're him... You're the... the _Devil..._ You're my..." she gasped, stepping back as she twirled a strand of hair frantically around a finger.

"Tell me it did _not_ take you that long to deduct that, Kóri." he sighed, placing a hand over his eyes as he shook his head. "No, you're not dead, you're unconscious on the floor in your room, dreaming." Isla breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Why am I here then, I'm going to die in a few hours anyway, couldn't you have just waited until then?" she managed, looking away.

"I am not _that_ impatient, Kóri. But that's beside the point. Why would I call your soul here when I went through plenty enough years ago to get it up there? I called you here to explain things that your mortal father neglected to mention." he spoke of Junpei as if he were a bit of a disappointment.

"Explain what? You mean _why_ Mum is going to kill me? Because that would be good to know. Or how Dad has these weird powers to spy on my life? Yes, explanations would be _wonderful."_ she grumbled, folding her arms.

"The power of the Foré," he began. "is a power strong enough to pull this world up from below the mortal land and set all in it free. Your mother and her moron henchman are after that ability. The statement 'I'm going to raise hell' will have new meaning." he said with a dark chuckle. "She is after that power. And it has been awoken within you, as you are a child of this world. Some mortals would call you a demigod, meaning a human and godly hybrid. This is not entirely false; in this case, it is the alteration from a god-born child becoming mortal. The Foré is a power that is created in those children as they pass between the rift between worlds. But only most can have the power taken. You are the one that can-if not careful- have the power taken from them.

"Only most?" Isla cut in before he could continue.

"The ones who cannot have the power taken are Alters from Heaven. Heaven and Hell are not the only Alter Domains. All the stories of demigods, each breed of godly child, if altered mortal, would be a Domain. The Sea, the Sky, Earth, Wind, Fire, even Mind, and so on. But do not confuse yourself with demigods. They are half human, and have the abilities of their godly parent. You do not. You gain no power from me. You are mortal. You will die a mortal death of old age, or illness, not battle wounds as most demigods do. Heavenly Alters cannot have their power taken from them. However, if that Heavenly Alter had created a Bond of any kind to an Alter of Hell, they will gain a Mark. That Mark, and it does not matter if they intend for it or even know of it, acts like a signal. That a foré power has awakened. And if the foré host is attacked, the Marked Alter will, willingly or not, go to any extent to protect the power. Even if it means death." Isla felt like she was going to be sick.

"The tattoo..." she whispered, her voice shaking." Ryan... he's...?"

"The boy is a Heavenly Alter. And he has been Marked by you. Which reminds me. Your question of your mortal father earlier. The power of the warning vision he has, I gave him. He does not remember being without it, even though I gave it to him about a month ago. It is natural to him. He can watch over you through the boy's memories as he dreams, and sense when his viewpoint is in danger or hurt. But he cannot sense his children. You and your mortal brother are hidden from his view unless you are in view of his viewpoint, meaning the boy." he continued, watching her expressions as she thought over all he said.

"What... what about that little boy?" Isla finally asked after a long moment, the chill in the air feeling worse now. "The little boy they killed, Micheal, what about him?" The god stared at her, then seemed to understand her question. He waved his hand and a shimmer seemed to cover the wall beside her. Slowly, a picture began to fade into sight. The image of a tall tree that she'd seen in front of the hospital. White petals floated by as wind blew, quivering its branches.

"Micheal Szala. An Alter of the Earth. After his death, his soul returned to his original Alter to be reincarnated. Here he stands, knowing nothing more about Krystan than that for some reason, she draws his attention everyday as she walks by to go to work. She sticks out of the crowd, yet he does not know her. All memory of his past life is gone." the image of the tree disappeared as he finished explaining.

"Does Ryan know?" she asked, her mind reeling in every direction.

"Not fully. He has been... hinted. But no, the boy is unaware of what he is." he replied, stopping as he looked up, holding up a hand to stop her questions. "You are being called. Farewell, Kóri." he said, turning and walking promptly down the path.

"Wait!" Isla yelped, running after him as he gained disproportionate distance. "Wait, please-" she cut off with a cry of pain as she jerked the hand that had grabbed his arm away. He looked over his shoulder at her, but didn't stop. She stared, wide-eyed at her burned hand, then stared at him, alarmed.

"I suppose I should have warned you that touching me would hurt a mortal." he said through a calm smile. "Farewell, Kóri."

"What does that mean?" Isla asked too late. The figure of the man and the dim pathway began to fade until the scene before her faded to black.


	13. Chapter 12

$47.29

 **Chapter 12**

Isla's head started pounding the moment she pulled her eyes open. She lay there for a moment, not wanting to move. "Sissy...?" she stiffened at the sound of Leon's hushed voice. She slowly heaved herself up and slid over to the door.

"Leon? Where's Mum?" Isla whispered, leaning down low to listen for an answer.

"Mommy's sleeping. She said Leon can't bother Sissy 'cause she's been bad." he went on, sounding kind of as if he were half paying attention.

"Leon, wanna play a game?" she challenged, hoping to keep his mind away from what was really going on.

"Game?" he gasped, his attention snapping back. "Yeah! Game, game, game!" he laughed excitedly.

"Shh!" she hissed, cringing. "Okay, we're gonna play a game. Called 'Rescue the Prisoner.' We're on a pirate ship. You're the brave little hero who has to rescue the prisoner locked in the brig. I'm the prisoner, and I'm in the brig. Now, you have to be quiet, or you'll wake up the Captain and her crew. Save me, Leon." she said in a rush, hoping he'd be quick about it.

"Pirate ship! Pirate ship!" he cheered happily.

"Shh! You'll wake up the Captain, you have to be quiet." Isla sighed.

"Pirate ship, pirate ship." he whispered, his voice changing pitch as he jumped up and down.

"You gotta get the door open, Leon. Unlock it and let me out. If you do, you win." she whispered, getting even more anxious as the seconds ticked by. She heard his small feet patter as he ran down the hall. A few minutes later, she heard him return. She cringed when she heard a loud clunk as he set a stool down loudly. The his feet ran down the hall again. This time, she heard the jingle of her mother's key ring.

"I beat all the pirates! Now to free the prisoner!" he giggled childishly.

"My hero." she sighed, breathing out a sigh of relief as he pushed the door open. He giggled proudly.

"I win! I win, I win!" he cheered, jumping up and down.

"Shh!" Isla ordered. "It's not over yet. The hard part's getting out without getting caught." she said, stepping forward and picking him up. She paused in her doorway, listening for signs of movement. She took a deep breath and began to step slowly down the hall, carefully placing her feet. She paused at the threshold of the living room. Carefully, she leaned forward slightly. She jerked back when she saw the figure of a man seated on the couch, facing away from her.

Isla stepped carefully into the doorway that branched off from the hall to become the kitchen. Luckily, at the other end of the kitchen was another doorway, closer to the door. Slowly, shifting Leon slightly, she crept along the pathway. She reached the doorway on the other side; the front door was now in sight. She could run the five feet, but she knew he'd catch her before she could reach the car. Normally, she'd take the chance, he was bigger and slower than her. But she had Leon, and she didn't want to risk him getting hurt, or worse: learn what was going on.

Leon pulled his head from her shoulder. "Are we still playing?" he whispered softly. Isla nodded, touching her index finger to her lips. She froze when she heard the creak of the couch as Victor got to his feet. She listened, waiting for sign or sound to indicate what direction he went. She heard a noise that seemed as if it were headed towards the front door. "Sissy." Leon whispered in her ear as he tapped her shoulder. "Pirate." she turned to see Victor walk past the doorway in the hall.

Slowly, she turned back to the front door and crept forward. She allowed herself to breathe again when she heard the door of the bathroom down the hall close. Quicker now, she reached the door. Slowly, trying not to let it squeak, she began to pull it open. She slid by when she'd opened it far enough to fit through and slowly eased it closed.

Then she turned and ran towards the car. She ran to the back where she'd taped a spare key under the small hood that stuck out over the light. She'd put it there about a month ago when she'd accidentally locked the keys in the car. She peeled it off and ran to unlock the doors. She ripped the back door open and placed Leon down, buckling him in and closing the door. She climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. She screamed when she saw Victor yank the door of the house open. Only having driven a few times before, she screamed again when she slammed her foot down and the car jerked backwards.

Trying to focus, she spun the wheel and turned the car sharply around. Watching as Victor began to run through the yard, she flicked the locks down, and switched to drive. The wheels protested loudly as she slammed the pedal down, skidding around the corner of the street. She didn't slow down until she was on the main road, out of the neighborhood.

"You said we were playing a game!" Leon protested from the back seat. Isla didn't answer as she carefully turned onto the road. She steadied the car before she spoke.

"Leon, listen to me. You stay away from Mum." she said sternly, glancing around. She knew this was illegal, to drive without a parent. She knew the danger she was placing Leon in, but she'd had no choice. "I know she hasn't said anything to you about what's going on, but she's dangerous. I don't want you going anywhere near Mum, or Mr. Cantor, okay? Just promise me you'll stay away from them until I can explain it to you in a way you'll understand."

"Okay..." he sounded upset. "Where are we going?" he asked after a moment.

"You don't remember our dad, do you...?" she asked suddenly, jumping as a car horn honked at her. "Sorry." she grumbled, tilting the gas pedal a little to get up to speed. She carefully pulled into a turning lane and rounded a corner into a road that led to the back of the neighborhood.

"Mommy said he went to sleep when I was tiny." Leon said, looking out the window.

"Well, he's awake now." Isla said, thinking hard to remember what turn it was. She made a sudden turn as her memory reminded her too late. "Sorry." she said, hearing Leon's cry of protest. She grinned when the tall gates of the building came into view. It looked creepy now, with the sounds of the late night surrounding it, and a light misting settled on the ground. She pulled to a stop on the road. The street was otherwise empty, no other car but hers, and no other building than the one that loomed over them.

Isla got out of the car and pulled Leon's open. She waited as he unbuckled himself and climbed out. He stared up at the building as she took his hand, squeezed it reassuringly, then led him up the path. "I don't like this place..." he protested, slowing down.

"It's okay. I promise, it's not scary. she said soothingly. Leon yelled in alarm when the gate creaked loudly open. She led him through the gate and up the steps to the porch that had a broken railing and floorboards that looked too weak to step on. Leon clutched as much of her hand as his fingers could wrap around as she stopped, and knocked hesitantly on the cold wooden door. She tensed when the door pulled slightly open. A face glowered at her from the gloom.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he growled, not opening the door.

"Vanic." Isla sighed with relief at the voice of her kidnapper. "I need to see my father." she demanded curtly.

"Why would I go through the trouble of waking the master up at two in the morning for an annoying little girl who can't fight her own battles?" he grumbled, leaning on the door frame.

"This isn't about me, now _move."_ Isla snapped, shoving the door out of his grasp as she pushed into the building.

"All right, all right, just wait here." Vanic spat, walking past her as he mounted the steps and disappeared down a hallway straight in front of her.

"Sissy..." Leon mumbled, tugging on her arm as he huddled close to her side. She looked down at him, then knelt down.

"Leon, it's okay. I was scared when I first came here too. But trust me, I won't put you in danger, okay? You may not remember him, but I do. He was nice then, and he still is. There's nothing to be afraid of. You'll see. Don't be scared, okay? Do you trust me?" she asked, clasping his hand in both of hers. He looked nervous still, but managed a nod. She stood up as she heard footsteps. Junpei stood with his arms crossed atop the platform, looking disapprovingly down at them.

"Isla, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded coldly. Isla swallowed hard.

"Dad, I-"

"Have you any idea of the time?" he interrupted. "First of all, you're underage and could have gotten into a lot of trouble. Second, you have no idea the dangers on the streets at this time: murderers, kidnappers, muggers, rapists; Isla, have a _mind!"_

 _"Dad!"_ "she yelled again, ignoring him. "Pay attention! Mum found out about my power, she was planning on killing me, I had to get out, and I _wasn't_ going to leave my little brother in the line of fire." she defended irritably. He looked down, seeing the figure of a young child hiding behind her. Without a word, he stepped lightly down the steps and crossed the expanse of ground between them. When he reached them, he knelt slowly to the floor.

"Leon...?" he asked in a whisper. The little boy instantly clutched harder onto his sister and pressed closer to her legs to try to keep from view. Isla squeezed his hand reassuringly as she pulled lightly on his arm to draw him into the open. "Come on out, Lad, it's all right." Junpei said calmly. Slowly, the boy peered around his sister to look at the man. "You don't remember who I am, do you, Lad?" Leon shook his head nervously. He lightly tugged on Isla's arm.

"Pirate...?" he whispered softly as he looked up at her. Isla smiled softly and shook her head.

"Mate." she answered lightly. Leon stared at him for a long time before inching out into view. Junpei's smile widened slightly.

"You've grown up quite a bit. Last time I saw you, you were such a tiny little thing, hardly able to walk. I'm not surprised you do not remember me." he said with a sad smile. He chuckled when Leon yawned, rubbing an eye with a tired hand. "Why don't you try to sleep, Lad? There are plenty of beds here, Dear. You'll need your rest if you want to grow up strong." Leon gave a sleepy nod as he dropped his hand to his side. Isla took a deep breath and knelt beside her brother.

"Leon." she said seriously. "Leon, I need you to stay here. I'll be back later, I hope, but I can't bring you with me. Can you be brave for me? Be brave and stay here?" he shook his head vigorously with a defiant glare. "Leon, I _really_ have to go. Please be good, okay? I'll be back." she pulled her hand free and stepped back lightly.

"No!" Leon screamed, wrapping his arms around her legs. Isla sighed and picked him up into a hug as he began to cry loudly.

"Here, Dear." Junpei offered, holding out his arms. Isla handed the boy over gratefully. "Go on, Dear. I've got him. Go to Ryan. Quickly." he said softly as he turned, carrying the boy as he mumbled soothingly down the hall he'd come from. Isla stared after them until they disappeared from sight, then spun and shoved the door open as she ran into the cold, dark night.


	14. Chapter 13

$44.14

 **Chapter 13**

The crisp air of the night blew heavily through the branches of a tall apple tree. Small white petals clung to their stems, and then stood back up when the wind had passed. But the tree wasn't paying any attention to the cold. The tree had turned it's thoughts to the hospital it stood before. An odd feeling had begun in it's trunk. The tree concentrated on the few small roots of nearby trees that had grown closer to the building and pushed to find out what it was that had happened. The wind carried the words of the taller tree through it's branches. A human had died, just as a lot more have, and a lot more will. But that tree knew better. The image of a woman walking past flowed through it's roots. That woman was the one who died.

The ground gave a low rumble, churning away dirt, rocks, and grass as a root broke from it's hollow in the ground. Soon after, another broke free as well. More broke out as they stretched, and creaked, and pulled, reaching slowly towards the building. A webbing of roots had climbed up the side of the hospital, covering windows as they climbed up to the third floor, where they folded lazily into the room, forcing under the window.

The body of a woman lay under a white blanket. Her eyes were closed softly, her pale expression calm. Her hands lay limply at her side, not feeling the cold table below her. A bandage was wrapped around her neck, hiding the puncture wound in the center of her throat. Her short hair splayed neatly out to the side, looking almost as if she were sleeping. But her chest didn't rise. It didn't fall. She made no sound. No sound came from her. Even the heart in her chest lay still, not playing any part to disturb the silence. She didn't react to the cold as the window slowly opened. She didn't look up as the root of an apple tree sneaked across the room towards the examination table she lie on. And she didn't move away when the root spiraled up the leg of the table to touch her shoulder.

The silence in room 325 was broken by the faint drumming of a heart as a shriveling root drew out of the window, climbing half way down the wall. Slowly, the roots drew away from the wall, falling with a thud to the ground. Slowly, as if tired, the roots slid back into the ground. White flowers began to drift to the floor one by one. The hand of Dr. Krystan Szala twitched as she drew in a shuttering breath.

Ryan jumped awake when Isla shook his shoulders. He looked up at her blearily, still struggling to clear the sedatives from his mind. "Izie...?" he yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Wake _up!"_ she snapped angrily.

"What is it, what's wrong? I had the strangest dream... the doctor..." he trailed off lazily as his body sluggishly stretched. It hurt his teeth to pull against the restraints as he yawned again.

"Ryan, wake _up!"_ Isla snapped, hitting his cheek lightly. She dragged him to his feet, catching him as he swayed. "Jeez, it's like you're drunk, _wake up!"_ she protested, struggling to hold him up.

"We have to... go to the... outside... Izie... the doctor..." he said, ever so slowly waking up.

"She's _dead_ , you idiot! _Dead!_ Now wake up!" she stumbled when he finally woke up, suddenly pulling away.

"No. Something happened. I can _feel_ it. We have to go outside. Tree. Something about a tree." he said, sounding kind of excited. Before she could argue, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her from the room.

"Ryan, please, I'm not safe here, neither are you; we have to do something, Mum's never going to stop. She'll kill me! Ryan! Listen!" she gasped, frustrated that he was ignoring her as he stabbed a button on the elevator.

"They won't come here now. Calm down. Plus, it's right outside." he finally answered as the box jostled lightly, beginning to descend.

"What are you even talking about? Ryan, please hang on. There's something I need to tell you." Isla said, nervousness washing over her in waves. The hesitation caught his attention. He paused in his rush to the lobby and turned his gaze to hers.

"Izie...? What's wrong...?" he asked softly. He tilted his head to the side when she looked away to try to get her to look at him.

"It's about... it's about where I'm from... and... and where you're from..." she hesitated, trying to find a way to explain and make sense. "You know how... I told you who my dad is...? And where that means I'm from?" she asked thoughtfully. Confused, he nodded. "Well, you're kind of the same thing. Except... you're not from... where I'm from..." she looked up at him then, only to find him staring at her with an eyebrow raised.

"English, please." he sighed, trailing his fingers through his hair. "How am I the same? What do you mean?" she thought for a moment, pursing her lips.

"Okay, to put it simply, we're both not... we're both from a different world. I'm from Hell; you're not." she tried quickly.

"Then... where am I from...?" he asked, sounding slightly startled. Isla bit her lip and slowly pointed upward. Ryan gasped as his hand flew to a small cross that hung around his neck by a chain. "You mean I'm...?" he trailed off, unsure of what even he was going to say. He stood very still for a long moment, thinking rapidly through possibilities. His hands slowly began to close until he'd formed tight fists.

"Ryan...?" Isla asked, startled. "You okay...?"

"Fine. Perfectly fine." he growled as he marched down the hall and through the lobby. He pushed pushed the doors carefully aside and shivered in the cold air of the night as he looked around. And then his eyes caught sight of the figure of a human body on the ground a few yards away. "There!" he said, striding quickly across the expanse of grass. The sound of Isla's shoes brushing the grass told him she was following. He dropped beside the body of Dr. Szala and stared as her for a long moment. "Is... is she...?" he gasped, horrified.

"Yeah..." Isla said sadly from beside him. "She got stabbed... in the neck... by... by your-" Ryan jumped to his feet and spun around before she could finish.

"My father?" he spat angrily. Isla nodded. Ryan sprang back when the body at his feet moved. Isla screamed when Dr. Szala's eyes opened wide, staring up at the branches of the tree she lay beneath.

"Where...?" the doctor mumbled, looking around until her gaze locked onto him. He wanted to yell, but couldn't. He silently cursed the braces keeping his teeth shut.

"How are you alive?" the question sounded like an accusation. The woman looked away from him, looking up at the dead, lifeless tree.

"Him." she said simply. Ryan raised an eyebrow, wondering if she knew she was indicating a tree. Maybe her mind was still half dead.

"You mean... this is him...?" Isla gasped, her eyes growing wide. "This is your son?"

"Was." Dr. Szala corrected with a nod. "He gave his life to bring me back..." she trailed off.

"I'm sorry, you do know you're talking about a _tree_ , yes?" Ryan interrupted, flustered. The doctor gave him a withering look.

"Ryan" Isla said thoughtfully. "Our parents gave us up for mostly unknown reasons. When they did, they sent us here to be reborn. To have a life. But when we die, our souls go back. And we're reincarnated into a symbol of our Alternate world. Her son was sent here and reborn from her. And when he died, he went back to his Alter: Earth. And he got reincarnated into this tree." she explained, trying to pick the less confusing choice of words.

"So what exactly does any of this have to do with what's going on?" he questioned, slightly less confused now. At that, Isla turned back to the woman on the ground.

"When he brought me back," Dr. Szala began, "I guess in dying again, he regained his memories of his past life for a short time. He spoke to me. Isla, your power is... a little stronger because of where you're from. So they want it badly. So they can basically damn every human being alive. Foolish if you ask me." she cringed as she slowly sat up.

"So, how do we get them off her tail?" Ryan asked, leaning against a nearby tree. The doctor shrugged.

"Kill them." she said simply, clearly not caring.

"No!" Isla nearly screamed, shaking her head violently. "No, I won't kill her. Trying to kill me or not, she's still my mother."

"I don't care either way about my father. Not after Mother. That murderer needs a taste of his own medicine." Ryan said darkly, glaring up at the star-lit night sky.

"What do you mean 'not after-'" Isla stared at him, wide eyed. He pointedly averted his gaze. She looked down, not knowing what to say.

"So." Ryan said after a pause as he pushed off the tree. "What do we do?" he glanced at Isla. "That _doesn't_ involve killing." he added lightly. He looked back to the doctor to find her pointing at him.

"Just as her power can call the demons and the damned from Hell, you can call the Angels of Heaven. Communicate." she explained as if it were obvious.

"Communicate?" he challenged with a scoff. "Are you serious? Don't you think I've _tried_ by now? 17 years I _begged_ for an answer. Why I was getting beaten for _nothing_. I never got an answer. He may be up there watching. But He won't answer. He never has."

"All right." Isla sighed heavily, folding her arms as she turned to him with a glare. "What's going on, you'd never speak that way about such things. You've been short-tempered all night, and it's not like you, what's going on?"

"Nothing. Leave it at that." he growled, turning his back to her as he walked away. He sighed when he heard her running after him.

"Ryan, I just want to-"

"No, Izie." he cut her off. "It's not something you can help with." he tried to step away again when she grabbed his shoulder.

"Ryan-"

"Enough, Isla!" he snapped, feeling her hand stiffen, and draw slowly away. He sighed at the silence that followed. He let his shoulders relax. "Just go inside, Izie."

"But I-" she cut herself off. "Yeah... yeah, okay." she finished in a small voice. Her footsteps faded as she walked back silently to the doctor. Supporting the woman, they left back into the safety of the building. Ryan turned away from the hospital and began walking, letting his feet take him wherever they led him.


	15. Chapter 14

$32.16

 **Chapter 14**

"I'll bet you stole it, didn't you?" a voice from somewhere in the hall teased as Dr. Szala swung the door open the next morning.

"I did _not!_ I _asked_ to borrow it." she defended through a laugh.

"You stole it, quit stealing pens!" the voice chided teasingly.

"I asked! Steph, didn't I ask?" Dr. Szala demanded, looking the other way.

"She asked." a third voice confirmed.

"Don't defend her, Krystan steals pens all the time, it's about time she got caught." the man continued through a laugh. Dr. Szala took the pen from her stack of papers and proceeded to throw it at the man. She then turned back to the room. Her smile changed to a concerned frown when she saw the girl sitting on the bed, looking down at her hands.

"Isla, Sweetie, are you okay?" she asked, closing the door, now ignoring the man in the hall. Isla nodded unconvincingly. "I can't help you, Sweetie, unless you tell me what's wrong. Is it your mother?" Isla shook her head. Dr. Szala smiled softly. "Is it Ryan?" she asked. Isla looked away. "About him yelling? Sweetie, couples have arguments all the time, it's-"

"We're _not_ a-"

"But you want it to be." The doctor cut her off as she stared knowingly at the girl. Isla looked down, defeated.

"Now's not the time for such things." Isla mumbled quietly.

"Now's always the time for such things. Or you may end up too late." Dr. Szala said softly. "Give it some thought, Sweetie. I have to go to a meeting, but I'll be back." she smiled reassuringly before the door closed her from sight.

_

Ryan's feet had taken him to the dance studio he trained at. When he wasn't injured. His teacher had given him a key so he could practice whenever he desired. So, there he stood, alone on the black Marley Floor of the studio, in front of a wall of mirrors that was there to help dancers see what they were doing. He stood, silently in the dim room, waiting patiently. As if expecting it, he began moving as soon as the song started. He loosened his body as the music began to move. He let it run through his body, moving his body for him. His body twisted, pulled, spun, swayed, and flowed as the music drowned out the world. His movements grew more intense as the music began to swell. His mind, lost in the music, forgot about everything and everyone. He let it carry him, not even thinking about how to move. It did that for him. His body spun rapidly as the music began to grow louder, towards a climax.

His mind slammed back to him, the music continuing on without him. He stared at himself in the mirror, confused for a moment. Reality took hold of his mind again, but he wasn't frustrated anymore. He'd calmed. Carefully, he picked himself off the floor, dusted his hands and knees, and touched the pause button on the stereo.

"You dance beautifully, Ryan. That was ballet, wasn't it?" he spun, startled by the voice. A woman in a long white dress stood before him a few feet away. Her curly brown hair cascaded around her shoulders. Her bright amber eyes, similar to his own, remained on him.

"Who are you...?" he gasped. "I locked the door, how did you get in here!" he accused, tensing. She raised a hand to stop his protest.

"Relax, young Ryan. I am not here to harm you." she answered calmly. "What's wrong with your mouth? It does not move as it should when you speak." she continued, striding forward. Instantly, he stepped back, ending up backing against the small cart that held the stereo system. Beyond that cart, the wall. There was nowhere else to move. The woman wasn't particularly scary, but she gave off a strange feeling. One that made him want to move away. When she came uncomfortably close, she reached her hand forward. He leaned back, leaning far over the cart until he could pull no farther.

"Don't touch me." he managed to spit too late. He stared, wide eyed when she lay her palm against his cheek. He heard a loud cracking, and felt something move inside his mouth. "What did you-" he cut off when his jaw moved. Startled, he opened his mouth experimentally. No pain. And no metal or wiring. The woman stepped back again. He slowly stood up again, staring at the strange woman. "How did you..." he trailed off, unable to finish. "Why are you here...? And who are you? People don't come to a random Dance studio at four in the morning regularly."

"You called _me,_ young Ryan. You tell me why I am here." she said through a kind smile.

"What are you talking about? I didn't call anyone, I-" he froze, staring at the woman. "Are... are you an...?" he trailed off as she nodded lightly.

"We are the only true Alter to stay within true reach of our children. Most children just do not know how to reach out. We are called when a child of Heaven is in his purest peace of mind. Other than death, of course. As I said, you dance beautifully." her aura didn't seem so repellent anymore.

"I wouldn't call falling beautiful. And I don't even know how you could help with-"

"What is it you wish for, young Ryan?" she cut off before he could continue. "On your chest. That Mark means you met a child of Hell you care about. Could it be about her...?" the woman gave a knowing smile. Ryan took a deep breath.

"Her mother is trying to take her power to free the damned into this world. There must be a way to stop them. Please, you must help." he said in a rush.

"Freeing the damned would unbalance the world along with every Alter existing. By all means, yes. But... young Ryan, we cannot just march to war, I'm afraid it does not work like that. Either they die, or she must give up her power. That means she will become a full mortal. And she will lose contact to her, or any other Alter." the woman said gravely.

"But how does she do that?" he asked after a long pause.

"It is not her decision, young Ryan. It is yours. That Mark that you bear is not only a bond. It is the life of her power. It is protected within you. To give up her power, she loses something great. As her Marked Alter, you must also give something up. To even the damage." she explained.

"But I don't have anything of value..." he protested. "And why does she have to give up her connections? To save everyone's lives, shouldn't she be rewarded...? It just doesn't add up." the woman smiled again.

"Young Ryan. The balance must be restored. If an Alter cuts their ties, something must be given back. You, being an Alter of Heaven, could give your wings of your Angel form. Walk along the Earth instead of above the sky as most Angels do. Those wings are the symbol of all that we are. Or your memories. Forget everything. Start over. I'm afraid it's a steep price to take an Alter from their home." she looked up suddenly, as if hearing something. "I must go. Make your choice by noon tomorrow. If you are not ready, she will most likely be killed. The rest of the human race will most likely be soon after. I shall be watching in wait for your choice." with that, she turned and began to leave.

"Wait...!" Ryan called finally. "What of my mother. Is she... with you...?" he tensed in the silence that followed.

"Abigail is watching you from above. Do not let those thoughts burden you any longer, young Ryan." she smiled over her shoulder as she left him standing alone on the black Marley Floor of the studio.


	16. Chapter 15

$28.85

 **Chapter 15**

"I have to give up my past...?" Isla mumbled, staring at Ryan who stood by the door, leaning on a counter.

"It's not really your past..." he protested halfheartedly. "It just doesn't make sense. But you still have the option not to." he added softly.

"If I don't, I'll die! And then they'll use my power to kill you and Leon, and Dad, and Dr. Szala, and Dr. Tucker, and everyone else! No, I don't have the option not to!" she snapped, flustered. He sighed, feeling as if this were somehow his fault.

"We have until noon. There's still time to think about it. It's only six." he tried, knowing that she wasn't listening to his unconvincing optimism.

"No." she whispered after a long pause. "I'll... I'll do it. What difference does it really make, anyway? It's not like he ever really spoke to me outside of that one time. I'll do it." she looked up at him as he walked over to her. He carefully wrapped his arms about her shoulders and hugged her tightly against his chest. Isla took a deep breath. "Ryan...?" she asked in a small voice, screwing her eyes shut, thankful for his shirt that hid her face.

"Hmm...?" he asked without pulling away.

"I..." she froze, stammering into silence. She pulled away and looked down. "I was wondering what you were going to... to give up..." she said slowly.

"I don't know yet... I might choose the wings... But I don't see how they're really that important. Not enough to match the value of memory." Isla jumped when she felt a small buzzing in her pocket. She reached down and pulled her phone from her pocket. She'd nearly forgotten of it's existence. She looked at the number of who was calling her. Confused by the unrecognized number, she touched a button and put it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked hesitantly.

"Isla...!" a panting voice met her ear.

 _"Dad?"_ Isla gasped, wide eyed. In the background, she heard Leon crying loudly, clearly scared. "What happened, is Leon hurt?" she tensed when he sobbed again.

"No, he's fine, listen to me, Isla. No _not_ come here, do you hear me, stay _away_ from here. Go somewhere they won't expect, just stay away from here, and the house, do you understand me?" he demanded breathlessly.

"Mum's _there?"_ Isla gasped. "No. No, I don't care, I promised Leon I wouldn't let him get hurt." she said solemnly as she pulled the phone from her ear.

"Isla, no, don't hang-" his voice cut off as her finger touched a red button on the screen. She got to her feet and turned to face Ryan, startled to find that he hadn't moved at all. This was unlike him, as dancers don't enjoy sitting still for long periods of time. Confused, she waved a hand in front of his face. He jumped terribly, and turned his startled gaze to her.

"Sorry, I don't know what... I zoned out, what happened...?" he asked, still looking dazed. Isla gave him a quizzical look in response.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked after a moment, looking him up and down. "You look kind of pale." He nodded lightly, then groaned, touching his hand to his forehead.

"Shouldn't have nodded..." he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut. "My head hurts... a lot. It's really sudden too; I felt fine two minutes ago..." Isla stared at him, worried.

"I'll... I'll go get the doctor." she said quickly, turning away towards to door.

"Wait..." he mumbled before she could leave. "Are you... going to go somewhere...?" he asked painfully. She looked away. He grit his teeth and pushed himself towards her. "I'm going-" he broke off momentarily in pain, "With you." he said determinedly. Isla shook her head violently.

"No. You're hurt, it must be some sort of aftershock or something. Please, Ryan, let me do this. I don't want you at risk." she protested, blocking his path. He shook his head slowly, glowering down at her.

"It's dangerous, isn't it? I know it is. You're tense. You give everything away in body language. You're horrible at having walls up that I can't read. I think that's partially because you want me to read them. I'm going with you. I'm not letting you do anything stupid. Because when you get mad, you blank out, and end up regretting everything you do. So no, I won't let you do this. At least not without supervision. Now go on to wherever we're going. And don't even try to argue, because I'll just follow anyway." he altercated stubbornly. Isla glared at the floor, knowing that he wouldn't listen to reason. Plus, she knew she was walking into danger, she needed help. She knew there was going to be an ambush waiting for her. But she couldn't leave Leon. Not when she'd promised she'd keep him out of trouble. Finally she nodded.

"But your head..." she protested halfheartedly.

"I'll get over it, I've felt worse." he said calmly. Giving up, Isla turned and led him from the room and down the long white hallway with nurses and doctors rushing by with clipboards, medical equipment, or hospital beds. Some empty, some containing unconscious or lightly sedated patients. Doctors rushed by deep in their conversations, hardly giving the children a second glance. They stepped into the elevator and began the slow ride down. The elevator, surprisingly, was empty, despite the busy floor they were just on. The music that played softly from the small speaker on the roof of the box seemed hugely out of place. When it finally jarred to a stop on the ground floor, they stepped out into the crowded lobby. Carefully picking their way through, they managed to reach the doors of the hospital. Once outside, Isla once again took a deep breath, terrified of what she was about to say to the boy she thought to be totally clueless about how she felt.

"Hey, Ryan?" she asked, her voice somehow steady, despite her nervousness.

"Izie?" he returned the question casually, waiting for her to continue. She made the mistake of glancing up, to find his questioning eyes on her.

"I-I... I wanted to... to say... I..." she fumbled, looking anywhere but him. Still, she could no longer shake the feeling of his gaze burning into her cheek.

"Izie?" he asked again, confused. She stole another glance. Was that hope in his eyes...? No, it couldn't have been, it must have been a trick of the light. Or something.

"I want do say..." she tried again. "T-that I... Wanted to... thank you..." she looked down at her shoes, too afraid to look up at him. She could _feel_ the disappointment in his eyes. Not able to bear the silence that followed, she turned abruptly. "Come on." she said quietly, continuing on her way to the car she'd managed to drive here what felt like years ago. Slowly, she handed him her mothers car key. "You can drive. I'm still underage... and am kind of terrible at it..." Ryan stared down at the key for a moment, then without a word, turned to the car and unlocked the doors.


	17. Chapter 16

$45.94

 **Chapter 16**

 _The young, hardly six year old boy stood on the porch to his house. His dark brown hair hardly even covering half of his ears, and his tan shorts were slightly worn. He had been playing with his neighbor only moments ago in the grass a few feet away from where he stood. The girl he'd known since before he could remember seemed impossible to get rid of. For that, he was glad. For her, he was glad. Despite everything, she'd stayed by him. Not blaming him, or running away from him as most kids his age did. They all stayed away from him. As if it were all somehow his fault. And he believed them. He blamed himself. Everything that happened to that little four year old girl, he blamed on himself. But still, she never blamed him, she still smiled at him as if nothing ever happened. She still ran up and hugged him every day as if he were innocent. She still played in the yard with him every day, even though she were sometimes afraid. The little six year old boy stood on the porch to his house, trying to pick the lock to the front door open. For he knew, that just beyond the door, just out of reach, that little girl was being beaten once again. Beaten by his own father._

 _His father punished the little girl that was not even his child for everything he saw wrong in the world. His father beat her as if it were her fault he'd hit a mailbox with the car, or gotten drunk and broken something. He blamed the girl. He locked the boy outside every day, so that he would not interfere as he beat the little girl. He always tried as hard as he could to pick the locks to the doors, or find and open window. But he never could. He dared not break a window, for fear of causing more pain to the little girl. He knew why she never complained. She was protecting him. A little, four year old child taking harsh beatings every day, just to protect the older boy from having to endure them. Bruises up and down her body were covered in make-up. Scratches, she blamed on simple things such as falling off her bike. She hid them well from everyone else. But he knew they were there. He didn't believe the smile on her lips. He could see the pain in her eyes. As they grew up, he became only more aware of it. Year after year, she took beatings to protect him. And year after year, he tried to get through the door to stop his father. But he never succeeded. Not once, could he break the lock. He could pick padlocks, unlock coded pads, and persuade tumblers into letting him through. But never once could he open the door he was most familiar with._

 _He suspected it was always his nerves that prevented him from being able to get through. But he still tried. Year after year, he listened through the door as he tried again and again to pick the lock. When they were young, she cried. But as they got older, she grew quieter. She cried still, but didn't shriek. He suspected that was, again, to protect him. Some days she ran out sobbing. Some days, bleeding. Some days, burned. Some days, she threw herself at him to cry into his neck as she held him. Some days she tried to act as if she were fine. Some days, she ran home without a word. Without a glance. But most days, she ran out crying in pain. All to protect him. To protect the boy who all he wanted was to protect_ her _from the exact thing she was doing for him. He would do anything._ Anything _to keep her safe from his father. It was his turn to protect her. He didn't want to see her run off without a word again. Without a glance, as she sobbed into her bleeding hands. Without a glance. Not again._

_

"Ryan!" Isla nearly screamed, lightly hitting his cheek. "Hey! Are you okay? How could you drive all the way here zoned out like a zombie! Ryan!" He jumped out of his memories and stared up at her, alarmed.

"What?" he gasped, looking around. "What happened?" he blinked, confused on where he was. Isla sighed heavily.

"Maybe you _should_ have stayed at the hospital. I don't think your head's on right." she argued again as he began to remember the morning. She didn't wait for him to answer as she turned and stared up at the tall building before them. He guessed this was where her father lived. It seemed so odd of a place for him. Junpei, as he remembered, was a fun guy, always laughing. Always smiling. He remembered how devastated everyone was when they heard the news of his and his youngest daughter's passing. The place he saw now looked dark, and intimidating. The complete opposite of the man who lived beyond the doors.

Still, he climbed out of the car and began to follow Isla up the path to the door. She paused at the door, seeming hesitant; then quickly grew angry and pounded loudly on the door with her fist. No one answered. Frustrated, she banged louder. Again, no one answered. As she reached for the handle of the door to open it anyway, Ryan took her wrist and drew her away. This time he would go in first. He wouldn't let himself be locked out again, unable to help her. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Isla followed quietly. Glancing around, he saw nothing but the dimly lit foyer. Slowly, they crept forward together, listening closely for signs of life. And then it came.

A loud cry of a young child sounded from somewhere down a hall to their right. He barely had time to blink before Isla had started running down the hall ahead of him. He sprinted after her, easily catching up. He kept pace with her until she skidded around a corner without warning. He stumbled and scrambled to follow in her wake. He caught up again inside another large room. First he noticed his father standing on the other side of the room, near a curtained window. And then he saw Junpei standing protectively in front of a terrified, crying Leon. And then he noticed it. A baby. It looked as if it were only born a few hours ago. Dead in his fathers arms. Victor smiled bitterly as they stared in disbelieving anger.

"Isla, what are you doing here!" Junpei gasped as soon as he saw his daughter run into the room. Leon didn't even look at her, but buried his face in Junpei's leg.

"So nice of you to join us, Dearie. Though I'm a bit disappointed you brought my failure of a son along for the ride." he greeted calmly.

"What have you done!" Ryan hissed venomously through clenched teeth. His father hardly glanced at him before looking down at the body of the infant. He held it as if it were still alive. He smiled at it as if it were his own pride and joy. Ryan grit it teeth, biting hard on his tongue to keep in an outburst.

"You'll never guess what I found this morning, Boy. A baby boy, just born. An Alter, too! And as such, he too had the power. But, as he was only just born, his power is a bit lacking. But I needed his power, so I had to kill him. I've discovered how very useful an Alter of the Mind can be. Don't you see, Boy?" Victor continued, finally turning his eyes to his son. He never finished that statement. Ryan's head began to throb. Then pound. Until all Ryan could think was pain. _Pain_. _Pain!_ Blindly, he shoved whoever touched his shoulder away as he collapsed to the his knees on the floor. He clutched his hands to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his dark brown hair, trying to pull the pain away. Make it stop, make it stop, make it _stop!_

"Ryan!" Isla gasped from her place beside him, kneeling on the floor. His eyes were shut tight, and his lips slightly open to reveal his teeth, pushing heavily against each other as he clenched his jaw in pain. She looked up at the man before her. "Stop, what are you doing to him!" she screamed defensively. "Leave him alone, you've hurt him enough!"

"No..." Ryan said in a broken voice. "No, Iz... not again, no." he said, his breathing heavy, as if he'd just been running. "I won't... let you do this again..." slowly, as if strained, he pushed himself up. He squared his shoulders, glaring at his father. "I won't let you touch her. Not again. Not ever."

"Ryan? What are you talking ab-"

"So I see." Victor smirked broadly. Isla glanced at Ryan, confused. She looked to her father, who was busying himself getting Leon out of the room. He looked at her then, and carefully pointed to his head, making sure Victor was not looking. Isla grit her teeth and turned back to Ryan.

"Ryan, listen to me. He's messing with your head. Ryan, he never did anything to me, it's you he's hurt. Ryan, don't let him mess with you, he just wants to upset you." Isla said softly in his ear. He shook his head.

"Oh, he knows. Somewhere deep down, he knows what's going on. But right now, he's not paying attention to that. I can control his mind. Which means I can control his fear of me. I can turn him into a cowering child." Victor interjected before Ryan could respond. Almost instantly, Ryan took a step back. Isla looked up at him, to see nothing but shock and fear clouding his eyes. "Step back, Boy, before I beat you senseless." he ordered harshly as he started to walk towards them. Ryan immediately moved away, stepping back to the doorway. Isla tensed as she was left standing alone before the man.

"Dad..." Isla said, fighting against every instinct to step back or run. She refused to let him have the satisfaction of knowing he scared her. "Get Leon out." she said slowly. Junpei's gaze flashed up to her instantly.

"Isla, I will not let you do this. Get out of-"

"Now! Dad!" she spat fiercely, not moving her eyes from Victor as he advanced towards her slowly. Junpei looked as if he wanted to keep fighting, but he understood her motives. So, without moving his eyes from his daughter, he pushed a slightly protesting Leon from the room, sweeping a disappointed, hurt gaze across the boy who stood rigidly just beyond the door.

"Now, Dearie. We can't possibly forget the real reason we're here, can we? We're here for that glorious power hidden in you. That will help me free the damned." he sneered, dropping his arms to his side. Isla pointedly kept her eyes from the infant body he had dropped to the floor in doing that. She sucked in a breath through her teeth when he smoothed her hair softly. "Such a shame you have to die. But I'll have such fun watching the boy as he watches you die." he grinned as he wrapped a hand around her throat.


	18. Chapter 17

$45.86

 **Chapter 17**

She managed to wriggle from his grasp somehow, scrambling away when she hit the floor. "Don't fight it, Dearie. You won't be getting away. Don't worry, when you die, you'll go back to see your father. Don't you want that?" Victor almost laughed. Isla shook her head violently, climbing to her feet.

"No. My father is, has, and will always be only Junpei Witte. I don't care what you say. Controlling Ryan or not, I won't die today." she hissed, backing towards the doorway. She gasped, shocked, when her back ran into someone. She spun, looking up at Ryan as he blocked her path from the room. She pulled away from him, the one time in her life she wanted anything but to be near Ryan. His eyes weren't... his. They were dull and steely. Her breathing picking up, she glanced around rapidly. Victor closing the distance between them, and Ryan blocking her path in front of her. She looked around him, and ducked quicker than she knew she could move under his arm. She ran. Down the hall, she sprinted, trying to get to the door. Get outside. Away from Ryan. Away from Ryan. She screamed when a hand caught her wrist. She turned, and tried to harshly pull herself out of Ryan's grip.

"Ryan!" She yelped, "Let me go, please, Ryan, let go of me!" she panted, trying again and again to pull free. But all he did was shake his head. "Please, please, let me go, this isn't you, he's controlling your thoughts, please, Ryan, wake up! Wake up..." she trailed off when she saw Victor appear over his shoulder. Desperately, she tugged her arm, trying to push his fingers off of her wrist. She hardly inched his fingers anywhere. She froze when his other hand gently touched her cheek. She stared at him, wide eyed, breathing quickly. Her breathing only grew shaky when his hand inched down her jaw, brushing along her neck, catching her in a gasping protest as his hand secured her neck in his grip. "Ry..." she cut off in a cough as he picked her off the floor.

"Drop her, Boy. Now." Victor hissed from behind him. Instantly, Ryan complied and moved quickly away. Isla collapsed, coughing and gasping for air. Tears streaked her cheeks as she cried out when Victor gripped her hair and dragged her to her feet. He slammed her to the wall beside them, Isla giving a sobbing, half choking protest when she felt the prick of a blade threateningly pressed to her stomach. She gasped when Victor started dragging the knife up, not cutting, but pushing against her shirt enough for her to know she couldn't move. The blade trailed upward until it rested against her neck. He smiled broadly at her, looking triumphant. "Don't cry, Dearie. It'll be over soon. I just had to see you scared for your life. But now it's over. You won't feel anything soon. Don't worry, I'll make sure the boy doesn't miss you too much. I'll keep him... distracted. Maybe in pain. Maybe in a coma." he chuckled to himself as he scrolled through possibilities of torturing Ryan.

Victor frowned when a hand touched his shoulder. He turned his head to see the barrel of a gun touch his cheek. A small click sounded as he drew the hammer back. "Put. Her. Down." Ryan seethed viciously. Victor gave a halfhearted laugh.

"Get back, Boy." he ordered harshly, looking slightly alarmed when Ryan's glare didn't waver. Moving slowly, he carefully drew the blade away from her throat. Isla dropped to the floor, her legs not even trying to hold her up any longer. Ryan inclined his head, indicating his father to move away. The man stepped a few feet away. "Drop the gun, Boy! Now!" Victor yelled loudly. This time, Ryan cringed slightly, still battling mentally for his own mind. Before he could properly recover, Victor moved. He smacked the younger man's hand that held the weapon, turning the barrel at Ryan.

The scream of a young girl was the only sound heard as the gunshot echo faded away.

Isla scrambled to him as he sank to his knees. Slowly, he fell to the floor. Isla grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over to face her. His eyes managed to focus on her. "I...Iz..." he gasped lightly.

"Don't." she begged through a sob, stopping him before he could continue. "You're... you're gonna be okay. Please, you're gonna be okay." her voice shattered as she tried to keep her eyes from the blood on her hands. He managed to shake his head slightly.

"H...Hey..." he rasped softly, brushing a finger along her cheek. "I h...have always... meant to... tell you... that I-"

"Don't say that!" she pleaded. "Don't say good-bye. Please, don't say good-bye, this isn't good-bye, you're gonna be okay, you're gonna make it, Ryan, please-" he cut her off by pressing a finger to her lips. His body tensed, he cringed, and took a shuttering breath.

"Don't cry... don't cry..." he whispered, his voice growing weaker and weaker as he brushed her tears away. "This isn't good-bye... You know it's not... Do you... remember when I... first made you... dance with me... and you... d...didn't want to... because you... 'couldn't dance...' but I... made you anyway...?" he asked, clearly pained to talk. She nodded, a teary hiccup of a laugh escaping her at the memory. "You're... a wonderful... dancer... And... I've known... since then... I didn't... want to... leave you... I wanted... to stay w...with you... And that... hasn't changed... I'll always... want to be with you... and I always will... I won't leave you... When you're sad... I'll sit beside you... and hug you... When you're... scared... I'll hold your hand... just like this..." he curled his fingers lightly through her own and held their hands up to show her. "Just like this." he repeated airily. Ryan's eyes darted around for a moment, as if he'd lost sight of her. Until he focused on her again. He gave a weak smile. "I'll be... waiting... for you... Isla Witte... I'll wait... forever... if that's... what it takes... I'll wait... and I'll be waiting... on the other side of those gates... and I'll take your hand... I'll be waiting... Promise me... that you'll remember me... remember that I'll... be with you... promise..." he pleaded softly, his breathing growing quicker, shallower.

"I... I promise. I promise, I promise, I promise." she sobbed into his hand. She watched with tears streaming down her chin as his eyes began to dull. He drew a sharp breath, releasing it slowly before his body relaxed. His fingers slowly losing their grip on her hand until it rested limply in his chest.

"Touching. But don't worry, Dearie. You'll follow soon enough." Victor, who Isla had forgotten existed for one moment, said darkly. Isla looked up slowly, and wrapped her arms around Ryan's body protectively. "Oh no, she's defensive. Oh, I'm so scared." he mocked. A small beeping startled Isla from a small watch on Ryan's wrist. She stared down at it, turning the alarm that read 12:00 pm off. Isla froze when a misting began to swirl about the floor between them. Victor stopped as well, staring in wonder. The misting continued until it began to move faster. Spiraling upward until it began to take shape. Shape of a man. The mist flowed until the man started to grow solid. After a long moment, Isla's true father stood before her, staring down at her with his deep red eyes.

"Though doing a noble thing, you must lose something great." he said without greeting. He almost looked sad. "You are now, Isla Witte, a mortal. You are no longer a child of mine. You no longer own any form of power of this, or any Alter. You will not ever hear from me again. Good-bye, K **óri** **.** I suppose I can no longer call you that. Fare well, mortal." the mist melted into the floor before Isla could even speak. Breathing heavily in panic, Isla looked again at Victor, who put no effort in concealing his anger.

"What have you done!" he accused. "Power or no power, you're _dead_ , Brat!" he advanced on her. Isla could only scream, clinging onto Ryan's lifeless body as he moved closed and closer.

She screamed again when the doors slammed open, letting in the daylight which seemed to have been unable to reach anything inside the house. At least fifteen uniformed officers ran into the large foyer, running straight for Victor. He struggled, but couldn't quite fight off that many. A few seconds later, a few officers marched out from a hallway to the side, dragging a struggling Syren between three of them. Junpei entered the building after the last of the officers, and immediately ran to Isla. He stopped when he saw her hunched over the body of a young boy. Slowly, he stooped beside her. "Oh, Isla, Dear... I... I'm so..." he stopped himself before he finished, knowing that saying sorry would do nothing. Carefully, he placed a hand softly on her shoulder. She didn't pull away. An officer carefully approached, looking as if he wanted to speak to her. Junpei shook his head menacingly at the man. "Give her a minute." he said softly, standing up himself and walking with the officer away.

A few minutes later, a woman walked up carefully and knelt in front of Isla. "Sweetie, I-" Dr. Szala's voice caught as she gazed down at the boy still being held in Isla's arms. "I-I'm sorry, Dr. Tucker, please..." she covered her mouth as she stood and took a few steps away. Dr. Tucker took her place before her.

"Hey, Kid... Can you hear me...?" he asked very softly. Isla gave a slight nod. "Kid... I'm sorry about everything that's happened... He was a good kid, you know? He didn't deserve to go this way. But Kid... I need you to help me out here, okay...? I need you to put him down. So we can take him, okay? We'll take good care of him, I promise. I promise, okay? Can you put him down for me?" Dr. Tucker watched her closely as she cringed, hugging him tightly one last time before she slowly, ever so slowly, placed him down gently. A sob shook her body as her hand wiped carefully over his eyes, closing them. Junpei and Dr. Szala helped her to her feet while Dr. Szala wrapped a blanket lightly around her shoulders. They led Isla away just as the medics carefully placed the boy's body on a stretcher and began to wheel him towards the ambulance. Isla gave a small whimper-like sound as she took a step towards him, but stopped.

"You can go with him, Sweetie. No one will deny you that. Ride with them to the hospital. You can stay with him as long as you like." Dr. Szala urged softly. Instantly, Isla sprinted forward. Catching up with the EMS team, she walked beside him, slowly taking his cold hand into hers. They carefully lifted the gurney into the ambulance, one of them offered Isla a hand. She took it, but didn't look up at the person to whom it belonged. A few seconds later, Dr. Tucker climbed into the back of the vehicle with her, the rest of the team sitting in the front, and closed the doors behind him.


	19. Chapter 18

$47.11

 **Chapter 18**

Three days passed slowly by. Isla sat quietly in Ryan's hospital room the entire time, holding his hand. Sometimes crying, or just staring blankly at the floor. She slept very little. When she did, it was because exhaustion overtook her as she sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair. She always woke up within a few minutes due to nightmares. Mostly consisting of watching Ryan fall to the floor, dead. Over and over, she watched him fall, hearing the gunshot echo through her mind. She ate very little as well. Enough to stay alive. And even that was due to the fact that Junpei and Dr. Szala brought her things like soup, and stayed with her until she ate enough to satisfy them. Still, even then she sometimes couldn't keep the thin soup down. Isla woke up from a daze on the fourth day and sighed softly. Today was the day. That night, she had stayed in the now empty hospital room alone. They had taken Ryan's body the day before to get him ready.

A few minutes passed as she sat in silence, staring at the wall, until a small tapping sounded from the door. After a moment, Junpei softly pushed the door open and walked in. "Hello, Dear. Feeling any better today...?" he asked softly as he took a seat beside her. Isla didn't look at him. She didn't react when his hand reached forward and carefully brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Dear... you know that boy loved you. He didn't want to leave you. That much, believe me, I know. But sometimes... things happen... that no one planned for. And no one wanted to happen. But Dear, everything has it's reasons. Maybe none of us can see the reason behind this one. But Dear, he wouldn't want you to be sad. He'd want to see you happy, and smiling. Those were the things he loved about you. Don't deprive the world of those things. He'd have loved to show the world that smile." he said as he pulled his daughter into a tight hug. "I brought you something, Dear." he continued, picking up a small bag he'd carried in with him. He placed it beside her, but didn't push her to look. "I'll be back for you in about half an hour, Dear. The service will be soon." he stood, pressed his lips to the top of her head, and left.

Eventually, Isla's curiosity won over, and she carefully opened the small bag. She pulled out the long article of clothing that had been tucked inside. She held in her hands a floor length black dress. The top was a dark, solid black, but as the dress fell closer to the ground, the color lightened until the bottom was a pale gray. She stared at it for a long time, trying to somehow get her mind to work again. Ten minutes later, she stepped slowly back into the hospital room, now wearing the long dress. She walked carefully over to a small bag that contained a hairbrush that Junpei had brought her, along with a toothbrush, and other things along those lines. She seated herself back into the uncomfortable chair and set to work brushing her long, tangled brown hair. Once it was finally brushed out, she looked back into the bag, raising an eyebrow at the silver shes her father had brought her. She shook her head, pulling her black converse back on. A dress, she could handle, girly shoes, she refused.

She looked up when her father carefully entered the room again a little while later. He smiled softly when he was her. "You used to like those kinds of shoes. I guess I'll have to learn you all over again." he chuckled lightly as he pulled her into a hug. "You look beautiful, Dear." he whispered through her hair.

"Thanks, Dad..." she whispered. Her voice was rough, for she hadn't spoken for a number of days. But she could tell he was relieved to hear her speak again. He smiled encouraging at her as he held the door open for her. Without returning the smile, she stepped out after him.

_

A small crowd stood in a large cemetery, the wind rustling the leaves of the trees, and tossing the grass beneath their feet wildly as it flew by. Among the small crowd, stood a doctor, who was usually seen wearing white, now dressed in a black dress that had lace sleeves, he hair was down, splayed in all directions as it always was. Another member of the crowd was a young boy. His short black hair spiked up just like it was the moment he woke up that morning. He wore a black suit similar to that of the man who stood beside him. The man beside the boy also wore a black suit, his red tie seeming to defy the norm of a black one on such an occasion. His black hair was a bit long, but not long enough to tuck behind his ear. Due to that fact, his hair swept constantly over his right eye, which he ignored for the time being, as his head was bowed.

Beside the man, stood a young girl. The girl's short brown hair swayed in the wind, and she held the skirt of her black dress as the wind also pushed it about. Behind that girl, another man stood, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, a pair of dress pants, and black shoes that stood with their heels together. His arm was stretched forward to rest on the shoulder of his adopted daughter. His daughters arm was stretched to the side, holding tightly to the hand of another girl. The last girl stood looking down at the ground, her long hair billowing in the wind. Her hand reached up to try to contain it to its place behind her shoulders.

The crowd stood before a small alter-like table that held a long black box. That box contained the body of a young man. A man who had given his life to save the last girl in the line of people. Another man stood before the box, however he did not face the box, he faced the crowd. The man had been talking for a long while about the life of a boy he did not even know. Calling him a hero, and preaching about how the world would never be the same without him. Eventually, he finished his sermon. "Is there anyone..." he paused, clearly trying to sound sad and sympathetic. "Who would like to say anything about Ryan...?" he swept his eyes over the crowd, looking for anyone to step forward.

Isla lightly squeezed Emily's hand, and slowly released her hold. Hugging her arms close, she took a small step forward, and then another, she took a few more small steps until she stood beside the man. He gave her a kind smile, and touched his hand to her shoulder. Isla turned away, she didn't look at the crowd who now stared at her, mostly surprised. She turned to the side, staring at the long black box that held the body of her best friend. She took a long, deep breath.

"Ryan was... the strongest person... I will ever know. He fought for his life... every day. And won... he always smiled... even if he was hurting... he was my best friend..." she paused when her voice cracked and took a deep breath to steady herself. "Someone once told me... that if I didn't speak up... I'd be too late... and she was right... I was too late... I never got the chance to tell him how I felt... and now... I won't ever be able to... And I'm sorry for that... I regret that... But once, Ryan told me that it was okay to not know... that sometimes... silence is the loudest anyone can speak... We were little then... but I still remember it... And I'll miss him... but I know... that he'll be waiting... and that gives me strength... and where ever that is... I'll be happy to go... one day...

"But he also told me to live life like you were going to die that very night. Be happy with every choice you make. Because even if... you fall while dancing... or your parents ignore you... or hit you... or people laugh at you... there is always someone or something that will always be there to bring a smile to your lips. And for that I'll keep on living. For those small things that make me smile. It was him who... held me when I was sad... laughed when I told a stupid joke... distracted me when I was scared... it's because of him that I am who I am... And I'll always remember him. I promised. I could never forget the man who gave his life... to save us all. I could never forget... the man who I fell in love with... And I could never forget... the man who's hand... I can still feel in mine... I will never forget that hold... Because you promised," she paused, looking to the case as if he could hear her. "to hold it like that again." she finished as a sob broke from her throat. She spun and ran to her fathers waiting arms, burying her face in his chest.

"It's all right, my dear. It's all right." he consoled softly in her ear, bending slightly so that he could speak in her ear. The man who had stepped aside for her to speak stepped forward again.

"Would anyone else like to speak...?" he asked softly, once again sweeping his eyes over the small crowd. No one moved.

As the block box was lowered into the ground, Isla stood beside it, and dropped her rose onto the casket. She stared at it as it struck the box with a small thunk. Then she moved on as she was supposed to, standing back to the side, waiting as everyone else followed in her wake, each dropping their own rose into the pit. Once they had all passed by, the man once again stepped forward. He said a small prayer for him, and then asked politely that they clear the area for the completion of the burial, as that was not all that safe to witness. He compared it to a construction zone. Staring back over her shoulder at the hole that hid the casket that held her best friend, she let Junpei lead her away by the hand. She stared until the stone- that told anyone who would walk by his name, age, and give a small sentence that did no justice to tell the story of the young man that lie a few feet beneath- was lost from sight. But she stopped a few feet before the gate of the cemetery. Junpei looked at her worriedly.

"Dear...?" he asked softly, glancing ahead to make sure Leon was still with supervision. "Are you all right...?" Isla gave a meek nod, clutching the cross charm of a necklace that used to belong to Ryan.

"I... Dad, can... can I stay here just a little longer...? I'll stay out of the way until they're done. Please, just let me stay with him. Just a little longer." she said in a small voice. He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled softly.

"Of course, Dear. Call me when you're ready to come home, all right...?" he said calmly. She nodded slightly as he pressed his lips softly to her forehead, hugged her lightly, and walked out of the cemetery, leaving Isla standing alone as the wind once again billowed her hair in every direction.


	20. Chapter 19

$43.54

 **Chapter 19**

Ryan woke up lying on his back out in the open. Confused, he pushed himself to his feet. Looking around, he found himself standing in the cemetery. He looked up, finding that it was very late at night. Early in the morning, in fact. The stars were very bright in the sky with no hints that dusk nor dawn were near. And then he saw her. A young girl sat on her knees a few feet away, staring blindly at the grass in front of her, almost as if she didn't see it. "Izie...?" he asked, startled. "You all right, what's wrong...?" he stared, utterly confused when she didn't respond. Carefully, he stepped forward to kneel beside her. "Iz...? Isla?" he stiffened when she still made no move.

"Ryan." a new voice spoke, startling him. Ryan looked up, finding a man he didn't recognize standing before them. The man was tall with black hair that was showing bits of gray. He wore a thin, white V-neck and long white pants. Somehow, the voice seemed familiar. Ryan thought for a long moment, trying to match the voice. Then he stared, wide eyed at the stranger.

"You're... you're the man who spoke in my dream...!" he gasped, shocked. The man nodded calmly.

"I am." he said simply. "Come with me, Ryan. You can relax now. Rest. Come with me, and you will finally be in the world you belong." the strange man said, extending a hand towards him. Ryan's eyes widened. Cemetery. He looked around again, his eyes finally resting on a stone. One that said his name.

"I-I'm... I'm..." he stammered, kicking to his feet, his breathing picking up as he stared at his tombstone. And then he froze. His eyes slowly traveled to the man before him. "Everything I've read... a family member... or at least someone you know... is the one to lead you... Where's Mother...?" he stared at the man accusingly.

"You mean your mortal mother. She... in this case, is not the one to Guide you. As she is not... your _true_ parent." the man explained with a meaningful tone. Ryan stiffened, and took a slow step back.

"You mean... you're... you're my..." Ryan couldn't even bring himself to say the word.

"Father. Yes, Ryan, I am. But I suspect you have no intention of calling me that, nor did I ever expect you to. For you have never known a real parent." the man looked almost sad as he finished Ryan's unfinished statement. Ryan stared, unable to speak for a long moment. Eventually, he tensed, his voice finding its way back through his throat. He remembered what Isla had said. Alters were given up to have a better life than the one they would have had in their Alter.

"Why." he growled through his teeth.

"Why what...?" his supposed father asked, confused.

"Why!" Ryan snapped, the anger and pain he'd kept to himself momentarily showing through. "If you gave me up to have a 'better life,' why the Hell did you give me to that _thing_ who beat me unconscious whenever he got mad! Why did you give me to the man who _hated_ my existence, who tried to kill me at _least_ twice a month! What kind of better life is that? Huh! How could you do that to your own son, if that's what I am! How could you damn me to that man believing I was his flesh and blood! How could you purposefully send me away to a worse life! You didn't even _care_ , did you! If you'd have cared you would have saved me the trouble and killed me then!" Ryan spat savagely. "The only thing _good_ in my life was her!" he added, gesturing in the general direction of the girl at his feet.

"Do not lie to me, Ryan!" the man cut in sharply. "You are wrong in saying that. There were millions of people and experiences that you decide to ignore and only point out the bad. Do not lie. Child..." the man heaved a heavy sigh. "You were only in Abigail's stomach... when it happened... And that's when your mortal father began changing for the worse. And by then, there was nothing I or anyone else could do. You were already out of our hands. I'm sorry; if I'd have known, I would have never given you to that man. But I sent you away. And then, a few months after, when your mortal mother was ready to have you any day, something terrible happened. And your mortal father chose a terrible path of cope." Ryan stared at the man in disbelieving confusion.

"You... what are you saying...? _"_ Ryan asked stiffly through his teeth.

"Ryan, you... well, you would have had an older sister. Had she lived. But, sadly, she passed on a few days before you were born into the human world. She died in a vehicle accident. She was with a friend who's parent was driving in a car, and another lost control. She didn't live long enough to make it to the hospital. Before that, your father was a loving man. Had never had any alcohol in his life before then. When I gave you up, I saw him. Not as you know him. Before that accident, he was a good man. But he lost his daughter. And very soon after, you were born. And he chose to take it out on you. For that, I am sorry. I could never have known what awaited you." the man stared at his son as he took in the reason for his life.

"But you gave me up..."Ryan concluded, trying to keep his hands from shaking. "You took me away from a life of no pain! No, I suppose I should thank you. I would never really know her. If you hadn't. I never would have realized I loved her. So thanks. For giving me to a life of living Hell in the process." Ryan stared down at the girl who still stared at the grass, knowing nothing of anything that was happening around her. The man hung his head with a small sigh.

"Ryan, I understand your resentment. But you will never understand the future that was set up for you in the world I sent you away from. Nor do I ever expect you to forgive me for what you believe I did to you." he continued, looking rather hurt. "You just do not understand what I've been through the past 17 years, just as I do not understand what you've been through. But now is a time for peace. Come with me. And all of the pain will go away. Just take my hand, Son." once again, he offered his hand. Ryan stayed still, staring at the hand. Slowly, his arm moved. He reached forward, towards the outstretched hand. He froze before their hands touched. He slowly looked down to Isla, staring for a long time at the girl he came to love. And then he drew his hand away.

"Then let me stay here." he finally said. "Let me stay here. With her." his father drew a sharp breath.

"Ryan, I am truly sorry. But I cannot bring you back to life. No matter what any of us do, we cannot bind a soul back to the body. I am sorry to-"

"I don't mean that. That much I know." Ryan intervened. "But I told her... that I'd be by her. To help her. And that's just what I intend to do. Let me stay." he repeated, raising his gaze to stare back at his father. After a long moment, the older man nodded. Ryan stiffened when he stepped forward.

"Ryan, I have been watching over you for many years. Just so you know," he placed a hand securely on his son's shoulder. "that I am proud of you. I am proud of what you have become. Young humans usually do not know the meaning of the word 'mature.' But you were forced to learn it at such a young age. For the pain you went through, I apologize. Even though there will never be anything I could ever say to atone for that. But allowing you to stay here in the mortal world is the least I can do." his eyes glanced down to Isla. "But she cannot hear you. She cannot see you. She never will. But I will trust that you can watch over her even without that. I will, however, visit your head every now and then as I did once in your dreams." he flashed his teeth in a smile as he took a few steps back. "Fare well, Ryan, I will check up on you soon." A blinding light blocked the world from sight as his voice faded away. When Ryan could see again, the man was gone. He stood alone on the grass of the cemetery, and Isla sitting on her knees before his grave, staring blankly at the grass.

"Izie..." he breathed, dropping beside her as he wrapped her arms around her shoulders, mildly surprised when they still touched as if she could feel it. He had half expected his arm to accidentally pass through her. He breathed a sigh of relief as he hugged her tightly. At that moment, Isla felt a strong, yet gentle breeze seem to linger around her. And compared to the previous winds, this one felt... warmer somehow. A small smile played at her lips as she took a deep breath. Carefully, Isla climbed to her feet, stretching her stiff legs. She looked once again at the tombstone of Ryan Cantor, her smile broadened. Finally, she turned and began to walk back towards the gate. She paused, confused, she looked down at her hand. It felt odd. It felt warm. She remembered Ryan holding her hand. Exactly where he had touched her hand, she felt a strange warmth that she couldn't explain. She thought for a long moment, slowly coming across the memory. He'd promised to hold her when she was sad. She gasped, staring down at her hand.

"Ryan..." she breathed softly. Without another word, she looked up and continued out of the cemetery. In the corner of her eye, she saw a glimpse, just a small glimpse of what looked like a person. Walking beside her. But she shook her head, pushing away all thoughts of maybe seeing him again. She knew that that small glimpse of him would be the last she ever got. Still, she smiled. Carefully, she pulled her phone from her pocket. Junpei picked up on the first ring.

"Isla! Dear, it's so late, are you all right, Lass?" his voice worried into her ear. His voice only made her smile more.

"Dad." she said calmly. "I'm ready to go home now."

 **THE END.**


End file.
